


Touching Base

by macaroni_rascal



Category: Pitch (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-09-16 17:33:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 27,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9282575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macaroni_rascal/pseuds/macaroni_rascal
Summary: Collection of drabbles and prompts about our favourite ball players and all their shenanigans.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by my amazing friend Kaylin. In which Mike is hungry...but not for food.

He’s lounging outside by the pool with a beer, his sunglasses on and reading a book Ginny had recommended. He had taken to retirement with more ease than he thought he would. His body was happier with him, that was for sure. He lost a bit of weight, doing more cardio exercises than strength now that he didn’t need to maintain muscle mass. 

It helped that his 26-year-old girlfriend kept him active and on his toes at all times. He heard her come home and call for him, he shouted back that he was outside and waited for her to come see him. He bet she was hungry.

She trots in, wearing her typical post game work out clothes, looking happy. They must have won. Gosh, he thinks, she’s pretty.

She grabs the book and tosses it to the end of the large lounge chair and plops down on his lap unceremoniously, wrapping her arms loosely around his neck and greeting him with a soft kiss. He loves his life.

“Good game?” He asks, running a hand up and down her back as she settles more comfortably into his lap.

“Really good, we won, 4-2. Although Duarte flipped a bat after Melancon gave him the finger. It was a whole thing,” she shakes her head, looking exasperated. 

Mike snorts and shakes his head with her, Livan may have become a much better team player in the past few seasons but he was still a little shit sometimes. 

One of her hands comes up to rub at his beard and he leans into her, sighing happily at the contact. He’d almost shaved it when he’d retired and she was forced to admit she did like the beard. Once he had confirmation he was annoyingly smug for far too long, in Ginny’s opinion. Mike was happy because she started petting him, scratching at his face and shoving his head between her thighs without shame constantly. 

Speaking of, she wiggled in his lap a little more and he felt his body start to react, he could feel the lush press of her ass on his thighs, warm and firm. He slipped a hand up the back of her shirt and scratched at her skin like he knew she liked. 

She moaned into the feeling, flexing and stretching her back. The movement caused him to harden more, his sweats hiding and confining nothing; she smiled at him knowingly. She let out a small satisfied moan and allowed herself to completely settle her weight into his body, going boneless and comfortable. He cherished this, that she allowed herself to let go around him and relax.

“I’m hungry,” she mumbles into his chest. He chuckles, happy and a little proud he knows her well.

She straightens up to look at him, an eyebrow raising.

“What, old man?“ 

"Nothing at all, Baker, I’m hungry too,” he smiles at her innocently.

She narrows her eyes at him, recognizing the tone of voice and knowing he’s leaving something out.

“Just not for food,” he grins wide and dirty at her and she starts giggling in his face.

Her head drops to his shoulder again as she keeps laughing. He huffs, but smiles anyway.

“Worst line ever, Lawson,” she’s shakes her head fondly at him. 

Rather than try and retort, in one swift movement, he wraps his arms around her middle and flips them so he’s on top of her, grabs her leggings and underwear, pulling them down her legs. She gasps, not expecting the sudden movement. 

“Mike!” Her voice is high and he can hear the sudden lust.

He gives her breasts and stomach small kisses as he makes his way to his favourite place in the world. He’s impatient to have her fall apart.

He feels her hands grab his head, trying to force him closer into her. He complies, giving her hard licks, wrapping his tongue around her bundle of nerves and sucking, letting his chin rub against her. Mike loves that she stays on his face and in his beard, that he can smell her until he washes her off, that she almost always kisses him right after. She told him, one day, when he kept her on edge for hours, how much she loved when he was covered in her, that it made her feel possessive and dirty. He had made it his mission to get her off messily and enthusiastically with his mouth as often as possible. He was in heaven and apparently so was she. It was a win-win.

Mike slows down when he knows she’s close, pulling back to kiss her thighs and rub his beard all over her skin, wanting her to be able to feel it later. She knows exactly what he’s doing and judging by how she’s shaking and whining, she’s getting impatient.

“P-please, Mike,” her voice is low and gritty, her hands scrambling for purchase and her face and chest flushed. 

She moans appreciatively when his speed picks up again and he lets his hand drift to her opening, giving her a few fingers to grind down on. She comes like that, he can feel her tighten around him as he keeps his mouth open and lax for her to grind into, chasing her orgasm. He gives her small, soft kisses as she comes back to herself, her hands drifting to cover her face, she lets out a small satisfied laugh. 

He crawls up her body, knocking her hands away from her face and kisses her, dirty and messily, just like she likes.

“Something funny?” He asks, his voice low and turned on.

“Well, now I’m really hungry,” her face is still flushed and she’s smiling at him, wide and smug; he’s so stupidly in love it’s ridiculous. 

“Well then, let’s get you fed because I plan on burning more calories,” he’s about to get up and find her something to eat but her hands and legs wrap around him, keeping him firmly on top of her.

“In a minute,” she breathes, her legs have shimmied his sweats down to his knees and she’s grinding into him, slow and with purpose. He moans and presses back into her heat.

“Food later, sex now,” she says quickly, her hands ripping his t-shirt off.

“Never thought I’d hear you say those words, Baker,” he’s smiling as he lays kisses into her neck. She pinches his ass and he yelps a little, pinching hers right back.

They end up ordering take out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired and half prompted by eyeslikeliquidfire and also half connected to A Force of Nature. In which Mike actually does have Ginny's whimper as his ringtone, and Evelyn hears it.

He’d been invited over to the Sanders’ for supper, Ginny was visiting her mother so unfortunately, she couldn’t join. Mike always preferred it when Ginny was there, for obvious reasons. Evelyn and Blip were amazing company and his closest friends but he missed his rookie.

Although she wasn’t actually a rookie anymore, he had retired and she was still going strong as a Padre, next season would be her fourth with the team. They’d won the World Series Mike’s last year in a nail bitter against the Cubs. He’d taken a job as a sports broadcaster and now worked part time for a couple networks as a guest commentator.

They had been in a relationship since the tail end of Ginny’s first year with the Padres and miraculously managed kept it under wraps from the team until the next season and the media until after Mike retired. There had been some backlash: the team mired in scandal for a couple news cycles, but they had survived and the world had moved on. Mike and Ginny were together and going strong, both of them delighted to have found a life for themselves outside of baseball. They of course still shared their passion and would discuss game strategy together. If Mike couldn’t make it to Petco or Ginny was out of town he’d always watch on TV and talk with her about it at some point.

Evelyn and Blip were in the kitchen, plating food for supper, when suddenly the sound of a muffled, but distinctly sexual, whimper escaped from the front pocket of Mike’s jeans. He was sitting at their island picking at the crudités Evelyn had prepared. 

The Sanders’ stopped what they were doing to stare at Mike, vaguely confused looks on their faces. He felt his ears heat up and his eyes widened comically. Another whimper came from his pocket and he quickly went to grab his cell, hoping to diffuse the situation and avoid any questions. He was kidding himself and he knew it. 

“I’m sorry, did your cellphone just whimper?” Evelyn looked grossed out but also incredibly curious as Mike attempted to mute the device. 

It whimpered one more time, indicating another text from Ginny, before he could finally silence the damn thing. 

He read the texts swiftly: Ginny was bored at her moms place and wanted to know how the dinner was going, what Evelyn cooked and how the twins were doing. 

He’d recorded her making that sound a few months ago, admitting that he’d always had a secret fantasy to have her be his ringtone from back when they first got together. She’d made fun of him, called him an old perv, then let him record her the next time they fooled around. She truly was a remarkably generous woman. 

He’d only meant to do it as a joke, he kept his phone on vibrate all the time anyway. When he first set her as his ringtone, he “forgot” his phone at home one day he knew Ginny would be sleeping in. He then texted it from his work cell over and over so she would wake up to the sound of him pleasuring her. When she finally woke up, she’d called and proceeded to make herself come over the phone for him saying that a live version was always better than a recording. 

If he was completely honest, he’d forgotten he even had her as his ringtone until that night. Mike fired off a quick response to Ginny before taking a casual sip of the wine Evelyn had said would pair perfectly with the hors d'oeuvres. 

“What’s that now?” He asked in a deceptively innocent voice.

“That is messed up,” Blip was shaking his head at him, a disgusted look on his face.

“Was that Ginny? Do you have Ginny whimpering as your text tone, Michael?” Evelyn was walking over to him slowly, ominously.

He laughed awkwardly, shrugging his shoulders dramatically and making a non-committal sound. 

“You do! You do! I can’t believe this; you guys are so much more interesting than I gave you credit for! I mean, I always knew you were a freak but I am so proud of Ginny!” Evelyn looked far too excited and Blip was still completely repulsed, if not more so at his wife’s interest.

“I am so calling her about this later, I need details,” Evelyn smiled conspiringly before turning back to finish getting supper ready.

Blip mumbled something about keeping the bedroom in the bedroom and Mike quickly excused himself to the bathroom, Evelyn cackling loudly as he walked away.

He closed the door behind him and pulled out his phone, quickly calling Ginny, rubbing a little bit of nervous sweat that had collected on his forehead on his sleeve. He sure wasn’t if she’d be mad, but he’d rather give her a heads-up than have her find out through the nosy she-devil who was currently preparing his food.

“How’s the wine?” She answers without preamble.

“Good, good, a dry red from that tasting they tried to drag us to,” his voice comes out even, which is good.

“Ugh, that sounds delicious right now. I’m starving, my mom doesn’t get back for another half an hour,” he hears her rustle around, getting comfortable.

“So anyway, quick thing, rookie: remember how my text tone for you is that sound you make that I love so much?“ 

"Yeah…,” she lets out slowly, sounding suspicious.

“So, Evelyn and Blip may have heard it and you may be receiving a call from Ev later tonight for details,” he says it in all one breath, hoping the faster he says it the faster it’ll be over.

Rather than confused silence or angry yelling, he hears Ginny start to laugh uproariously through the phone, he thinks she drops it at one point because her hoarse cackles become a little muffled. 

She finally catches her breath a minute later as she brings the phone back to her ear.

“Seriously?” She asks, a few more laughs escaping her lips.

He’s grinning wide and chuckles along with her.

“Yeah, the looks on their faces were pretty priceless,” he’s laughing more now. He should have known she wouldn’t be mad, this is the exact type of thing she would laugh at if it hadn’t happened to her.

“Well, I’m home in two days so you’ll be able to hear the real thing soon enough,” the smile is clear in her voice and his stomach tightens thinking about how lucky he is to have found such an amazing woman, and how blessed he is that woman wants anything to do with him.

“Can’t wait, Baker."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompted from tumblr: light d/s.
> 
> He likes it best when she's on top.

He likes it best when she’s on top.

Of course, there are practical as well as personal reasons: it’s much easier on his back and knees, and he gets a front row seat to a naked and writhing Ginny Baker; it’s his favourite and most cherished view.

At the beginning of their relationship, she would laugh at Mike every time he rolled them so she was above him, making a joke about his old man bones and how he needed her to do all the work. He’d slap her ass and joke back that her spry young body should be doing all the work anyway.

Soon though, it’s very obvious that Ginny likes being on top as much as Mike likes being under her. She loves the control and he is not at all surprised. She’s controlling and assertive in every other aspect of her life, why would she approach sex with him any differently? Once they became comfortable with each other, her true natures started coming out more and more. She’d never had a relationship that lasted this long, or one where she was given cart blanche to do whatever she wanted because her partner was just as willing to try new things as she was. 

He thinks he notices the change in her before she does. Ginny gets lost in her pleasure; the world falls away until all she can feel is her body and what Mike is doing to her and what she’s doing to herself. It’s breathtaking to watch. 

They are in bed together and she’s riding him, head thrown back and trembling. His whole world begins and ends with how she feels around him and the sounds she’s letting escape from the back of her throat, low and guttural. His hands are on her hips but they migrate up to play with her breasts, knowing she likes it when he pinches her nipples. 

“Hands on my hips, Lawson,” she says in a commanding tone and he immediately moves to grip her there, shuddering at the sound of her voice. 

He doesn’t move his hands until she comes, quivering where she’s velvet soft around him and he wants to follow her off that cliff but something holds him back. He’s desperate and twitching underneath her and she doesn’t care at all.

“Can I touch you? Please, please let me touch you,” he pleads without shame. 

She’s lethargic and slow from her orgasm but she leans over, kisses him wet and dirty and he’s a whimpering mess.

“You can touch me, but don’t come,” she whispers in his ear and he’s certain this is how he’s going to die; she is going to kill him and he’s not even mad about it.

Still, he lets his hands run all over her body, gripping her perfect ass and then trailing up her back and around to pinch her nipples again just to make her twitch and gasp. She’s rolling her hips just a little bit and if he doesn’t come soon he will lose his mind. He’s not above begging. He lets out a string of curses and beseeches her to let him come, she’s laughing in his ear and when she finally lets him and he has one of the most intense orgasms of his life. Ginny rolls off him but he doesn’t let her go far, bringing her body next to his and clutching her for dear life. 

They don’t mention it, not purposefully, they just sort of forget until two nights later when she’s once more on top of him and dictating how to move inside her. Mike follows her orders perfectly, going faster when she commands, harder, slower, deeper; whatever she wants, he does happily. She pulls off him suddenly and he whimpers at the cool air over his body, she lays down beside him and gives him a look that he knows means he’s about to be very happy. 

“Go down on me,” she demands.

As if he’d ever kick up a fuss. Being between her legs is tied with being below her as his favourite place to exist. Everything about it he’s addicted to, her taste, her sounds, the small giggles she lets out when his beard tickles her thighs. It’s heaven, pure and simple.

She holds his head in place and tells him how to use his mouth the same way she was controlling how he used his body and he comes rutting against the bed as she orgasms all over his face, thighs vibrating around his head. Mike’s ears ring a little bit as he takes one last taste and looks up at her, she’s got a blissful and proud smile on her face and he’s content as he’s ever been. 

Ginny decides to finally mention the fact that for the past few weeks she’s essentially ordered him around like he’s her own personal sex toy, when she’s got him inside of her. She told Mike that he wasn’t allowed to touch her so his hands are in tight fists at his sides, arms tense with the need to caress and fondle and love, but so so very turned on at not being able to. 

She stops moving above him and he’d ask what happened but she told him not to speak until spoken to so he stays quiet. She’s looking at him curiously.

“Should we talk about the fact that I’ve been ordering you around in bed? We haven’t talked about it,” her breathing is a little laboured but she seems serious about the question. 

“Right now? You wanna talk about this right now, Baker?” His voice is hoarse from non-use and he just wants her to move, his hips start to twitch and he thrusts inside her just a little.

“Stop moving,” and Mike instantly complies, hips stilling and his breath coming out like a punch. She slaps his chest lightly.

“See? You just did what I asked, no questions,” she doesn’t look concerned but he can tell it’s going in that direction. They are so honest and open with each other in every aspect of their lives that she must have only just realized they hadn’t talked about this. He needs to rectify the situation quickly for her.

“I mean, do you even like it? Am I being too controlling?” She’s talking to him like they are chatting on their couch, not like he’s still buried deep inside her and the sweat on their bodies is starting to cool. 

“I think it’s fairly obvious I’m enjoying myself, babe,” he smiles at her, hoping that’s the end of it. He wants to save the psychoanalyzing as to why he likes it so much for a later date.

“But you’re okay with it? You don’t mind at all?” It’s looking like she’s coming around because she starts rocking back and forth infinitesimally, his brain is starting to go hazy again.

“Trust me, I don’t mind, now can we please talk about this later?” His muscles are singing for her to do something, for her to let him do something. 

She nods her agreement and starts moving over him in earnest, building up a rhythm and falling back into her own pleasure. How could she think he would mind this? This is perfection. She is perfection. 

Later, after they decide to shower together only to fall back in bed again, she asks one more time if he’s sure he is okay with it. He tells her he loves her and that he’s okay with whatever she wants because it’s her that wants it. Ginny kisses the reverent smile off his face and says she feels the same. They spend the rest of the day in bed.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Mike calls Ginny a cute nickname on accident in front of the team and there is no way to make it seem platonic, outing their relationship to the team.

It happened the next time they got rained out.

Once the team got word they wouldn’t be able to play for at least another good hour, Mike pulled the gavel from his locker, the Padres quickly grabbing chairs and sitting down for another Kangaroo Court. Baker was on the team again, her arm back and better than ever. Mike had helped her with PT during her recovery, she even stayed with him for the first few weeks after she got out of the hospital. 

It had been both a blessing and curse being so near Ginny all the time, seeing her in various states of comfort and ease. She used his pool for aqua therapy, the gentle resistance of the water helping her gain back movement and strength in her arm. 

They had their first kiss in that pool. She had already done a few laps and Mike was calling her in for supper, sliding comfortably into the domestic routine they’d adopted. He’d made tacos, one of her favourites. Like everything Ginny tackled in her life, she took to her recovery seriously and with complete focus. She didn’t hear Mike calling her, so he trudged his way out to where she was swimming, choosing to throw a baseball pool toy at her to get her attention rather than yell again.

The toy bounced off Ginny’s head and she popped up from her rhythmic laps, sputtering at him angrily, wanting to know what the hell his problem was.

Depending on who tells the story, Mike either tripped and fell into the pool, or Ginny pulled him in; either way he ended up in the water, beard dripping and brow furrowed in irritation. 

When he threatened to throw out the salsa he’d made especially for her, sans cilantro, she’d quickly swam over to apologize, a splash fight had ensued, and she somehow ended up trapped between the pool wall and his hard body. They went from giggling to making out like teenagers before either of them really understood what was happening. She’d wrapped her body around him, legs around his waist and arms around his shoulders, holding onto him with a vice like grip while one of Mike’s hands trailed down her body, the other holding the ledge of the pool to keep them afloat. 

They only stopped when Mike let go of the ledge so he could get a better grip on her and they both sunk into the water and needed to separate or drown. The rest was history. They talked and decided it was ridiculous to avoid what they both knew they felt and they fell into a relationship with such ease that Mike berated himself for not kissing her weeks before. 

They had yet to tell the team, wanting to keep their relationship to themselves as long as possible, deciding to out themselves after Mike’s final season so as to keep the team dynamic as professional as possible. 

They should have known it would come out sooner or later, Mike just didn’t think it would be by his own doing. 

After Voorhies paid up for stealing from Melky’s secret gum supply, Ginny was accused of snoring excessively loud on the team bus. She tried to play it off, saying that there was no way she was the loudest person to snore on the bus. 

“C'mon, honey, you know you sound like a freight train.”

He hadn’t even realized his misstep until he saw the deer in headlights look on Ginny’s face, he glanced around and saw similar looks of surprise and confusion on the teams faces. 

Except for Blip, who just popped up from beside Mike and yelled “I knew it!“ 

He tried to backtrack, uselessly, and to everyone’s amusement. Ginny’s bright red face as telling as Mike’s nervous laughter. Turns out a few members of the team already suspected and were taking bets on how long it was going to take them to come clean. 

Mike demanded half of the winnings, which he used to take Ginny out for ice cream after their game that day.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sort-of prompt: platonic bed sharing

She ended up a lot drunker than she expected and staying over at Lawson’s just made more sense than leaving his house where she could fall down, or freeze to death, or maybe die. 

At least this was the reasoning she assumed had gone through her head when she cracked her eyes open only to be met with an eye full (and ear full) of a snoring Mike Lawson. Her head was pounding and her mouth tasted like regret and too many honey and garlic chicken wings. The team had celebrated a big win against The Yankees at the catcher’s house the night before.

She was warm and snug under the blankets and Mike’s snoring wasn’t so loud that she couldn’t fall back to sleep if she wanted to, but loud enough that she’d wish he’d stop. Dragging a foot over closer to him, she nudges him hard in the shin and his heads pops up from the pillow. He takes a minute to orient himself and run a hand over his face before looking at her with mild surprise.

“Baker?” His voice is gruffer than normal (she didn’t think it was possible) and he was squinting at her like he didn’t know if he was in the wrong place or she was.

“Stop snoring, old man,” is all she says as she rolls over and snuggles deeper into the pillows, closing her eyes and letting herself get comfortable. Mike chuckles quietly beside her and she hears him rustle around with the blankets, turning on his side and taking a deep breath that she feels faintly on the back of her neck.

“You got it, rookie.”

The next time she opens her eyes she smells bacon and smiles.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: If you are I would love to see something a little more angsty regarding the team finding out about Ginny and Trevor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much more angsty that I was expecting, sorry in advance. <3

The day starts out normal enough.

She wakes up at her standard time, does her usual work out, eats her typical breakfast; nothing out of the ordinary. She’s become used to her routine, enjoys it, finds a steady amount of comfort in the repetition. The team has been slowly but surely coming around to her, the majority of them used to her presence and even friends with her. There are still come hold outs, there always are, but she’s mostly unconcerned. 

There have been no more fights in the clubhouse, no angry lingering looks or muttered insults thrown at her in a few weeks so she’s feeling pretty confident about her place on the Padres. The season is winding down but they still have a chance of clinching a wild card spot and the team has been playing relatively well.

Then Melky had to go and open his big mouth. 

After the picture scandal blew over and things settled down, she’d figured she could close the chapter in her life centered around Trevor Davis. She wrongly assumed it had been dealt with and was in the past, far enough away that it couldn’t touch her anymore.

She feels a little bit like an idiot for being so naïve, but mostly just angry.

“So, Baker and Trevor Davis, huh? You think that’s why they got into it during that game?“ 

She has her headphones in and is about to go do some warm ups in the gym but hasn’t turned her music on yet, Melky’s hushed voice still loud enough that she and some other players hear him. Ginny knows it’s going to be something she will have to deal with and is already a little tired thinking about it. Mike had asked about it, she’d chosen her words carefully, confirmed nothing. He’d accepted it, if begrudgingly.

She’d been clear and even ribbed the guys about how she doesn’t date ball players, she knows she’s going to catch hell for this – hopefully she’s created enough of a rapport with the team that they will just chide her and ask gross questions she’ll refuse to answer and that will be that.

This is where the naïve part comes in.

Luckily, her step doesn’t falter too much, she just keeps on walking to the gym, turning her music on and going through her exercises, focusing her energy and brain power on the game she’s pitching today, not whatever immature reaction she’s going to receive when she returns to the clubhouse. 

Ginny is wholly unprepared for what she’s greeted with when she makes her way back to change for the game.

She hears it before she sees it; she’s walking down the hallway, removing her headphones when she hears loud indiscriminate shouting and the distinct sound of someone getting punched.

She quickens her step and is greeted with Mike attempting to escape the hold Blip, Sonny, and Dusty have on him: both his arms and torso are being restrained and there is a look of pure rage on his face; a look no sane person would ever want to be on the receiving end of. Moore, one of the relief pitchers that has yet to speak with her directly and still gives her the cold shoulder, is being held back by a few of the other guys. Al comes rushing in behind her, yelling at the guys to smarten up and take a walk. It takes a few moments for the din in the clubhouse to fade as the adrenaline wears off and the team begins to calm down.

Mike is breathing hard and there is blood on his knuckles, Moore has a nice sized gash on his cheek.

“I’m good, I’m good, let go!” Mike tears himself away from the arms that were holding him captive. He runs both hands over his face, tugging on his beard and takes a couple deep breaths.

She doesn’t think any of them have seen her yet, or at least clocked that she’d been witness to the tail end of whatever happened. When Mike’s eyes meet hers from across the clubhouse he looks surprised, regretful, then frustrated in the span of a few seconds.

Everyone is slowly trickling back to their lockers, resigned and a little embarrassed – the tension is still palpable as Moore is ushered down the hall to get his face looked at. Al makes his away over to Mike and they speak in hushed, whispered tones that she can’t make out. She walks into her private area and changes quickly. 

“You decent, Baker?” Al’s voice carries through the curtains.

“Decent,” she responds.

He comes in, a surprisingly amused look on his face. She cocks an eyebrow involuntarily and Al lets out a small chuckle.

“They are such children, the lot of ‘em. Half this job is just being a parent, I tell ya, rook,” he shakes his head a little, “and some of them are so ungrateful it could make ya spit.”

She’s completely lost and it must show on her features.

“Nothing to worry about, Baker. Just wanted to let you know,” Al pats her shoulder and walks back out, parting the curtain and leaving it open. He clears his throat loudly as he leaves, which confuses her until she sees Mike hovering just beside the partition. She’s guessing the “ungrateful” comment was directed at him.

“So, you and Davis, huh?” He says without preamble. She thinks he’s trying to sound casual, but it comes out a little huffy. 

She hangs her head for a couple seconds, just to gather her bearings and assess how she wants to go about this. She figured the fight had been about that, but having it confirmed was still annoying. 1 step forward, 2 steps back.

She scratches the side of her mouth and lifts her head to look at Mike but he seems fascinated by something on the other side of the clubhouse. If he can’t even look her in the eye when he asks the question, he doesn’t deserve the answer.

“That’s none of your business, Lawson,” she says seriously. 

His eyes dart to hers quickly before scowling and letting out a sarcastic little laugh that makes her hands curl into fists at her sides. 

“Well I just punched Moore in the face defending your honour so I think you owe me an answer, rookie,” his voice is hard and she’s flummoxed for a second. 

“Excuse me?” She wants to make sure she heard what she thinks she heard.

“Melky said something about how his friend on the A’s played with you and Trevor back in the minors and that you dated,” the clubhouse is almost empty, most of the guys having left to the field for warm ups.

Ginny lets out a sarcastic laugh of her own, grabs her glove, ignores Mike, and starts to make her way out to the field to focus on the game. 

This is where the anger comes in.

She doesn’t need Mike defending her honour, she doesn’t need Melky being a nosy gossip, she doesn’t need Moore doing whatever he did that got him punched. She doesn’t need any of this and yet by virtue of just being herself, these are things she has to deal with.

She can’t just have an ex-boyfriend, no, she has an ex who got hacked and her body became public property. She has gotten so good as letting things roll off her back but her frustration hangs on, tight and unwanted. She’s had to have thick skin and the majority of the time its saved her, protected her, kept her head up when she felt like she wanted to crumble. The problem is that when something gets to her, it buries deep and affects her in an intensely visceral way. 

Ginny is usually so good at compartmentalizing things like this, having the occasional panic attack when something gets to be too much. The therapy has been helping and she’s slowly learning to deal with things in a healthier way; a way in which she lets herself feel rather than distract herself with baseball. 

She just wants to pitch. She wants to exist without being attacked and scrutinized and harassed and judged. But this is her life, this is what she fought for and she is not going to let anyone or anything, especially not gossip about her idiot ex or an asshole teammate, jeopardize her career and her goals. 

But she stays angry. 

She stays angry throughout warm ups, the team still tense and not joking with each other as much as they normally would. No one approaches her but Blip, asking if she wants to warm up with him. Blessedly, he doesn’t mention the fight or her and Davis; she’s grateful. She long tosses with him, does some stretching by herself and takes a solo lap around the field to try and work out the frustration that is bubbling up inside her, sharp and searing. It doesn’t work.

She stays angry during the game, her pitches are good if a little wild, she gets annoyed with herself for loosing control and needs to practice a breathing exercise her shrink suggested while the batters change. Mike notices, because of course he does, and calls time.

She is not in the mood and wants him off her mound.

“Everything okay, Baker?” He sounds concerned, his glove is over his face but his eyes betray him. 

“Just peachy, give me the ball,” she says, her voice as level as she can manage.

He squints at her for a second before handing it over and walking back to home plate. 

They pull her two innings earlier than normal and she doesn’t blame them. It just increases her anger, that she’s let herself be this affected, that her focus and her pitching was affected. She stews silently in the dugout for the rest of the game, they win 2-1 only thanks to Javanes’ home run in the 8th.

The clubhouse is still charged after the game, everyone clearing out relatively quickly; Ginny attempts to be one of them but as she’s walking down the hall toward the exit, she hears her name being called from a PT room.

Mike is standing, leaning against one of the fold out tables, his arms crossed and a sour look on his face.

Unsurprisingly, she is still not in the mood.

“Make it quick, Lawson, I wanna get home,” she says.

“You live in a hotel, Baker, how anxious could you be?” He’s stalling and she just wants to go.

She stays quiet, hoping the silence will force him into spitting out whatever he wants to say.

“Moore said something about you and Davis that he shouldn’t have said and things escalated quickly. The majority of us defended you, I want you to know that. It’s unacceptable and completely ridiculous. You’re a part of this team and you deserve to be treated with respect just like any other player!“ she watches as he works himself up, his body growing more coiled and his words coming out harsher and harsher until he’s almost yelling as he finishes his little spiel.

When the look on her face doesn’t change, he sags a little, sighs loudly and drops his head to his chest.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he looks vaguely sheepish.

Something stills burns hot and sharp in her belly. 

“That it?” She asks, clipped and impatient.

He looks at her incredulously, arms uncrossing and opening his palms to her.

“Baker, come on,” he’s looking at her beseechingly, eyes wide and a little confused.

“See you tomorrow,” she says quickly, turning on her heel and walking out.

He calls her name twice as she’s leaving but she keeps walking. She goes for a long run to work off some energy before breaking down and crying in the shower when she returns. It feels cathartic and freeing to just let go for a little while. Maybe this therapy thing is working, she’s almost certain a few months ago she would have just repressed it all and moved on. 

Ginny’s phone rings while she’s getting ready for bed. She doesn’t have to look at the caller ID, no one calls her this late but him. She debates whether to answer when there’s a knock at the door. It’s Mike, a phone pressed to his ear. The chimes of her cell stop as he brings his down and ends the call. 

“Wanted to make sure you were still up before I knocked,” he has a small smile on his face and she’s opens the door wider to let him in.

She doesn’t really know what to say, she’s physically and emotionally exhausted and wants some silence and sleep. The anger had dissipated, just a quiet hum of tension and anxiety she was still holding onto that had everything to do with the catcher currently plopping himself down on her couch. 

“Come on, Baker, give me something here,” his voice comes out in a huff, impatiently. 

She lets out a disbelieving noise and shakes her head, going to sit down on the couch beside him.

“What is it exactly you want from me, Mike?“ 

“A thank you, would be nice.”

She takes a deep breath and rolls her shoulders to avoid yelling at him like every bone in her body is telling her to. 

“I didn’t ask you to interfere, or punch anyone, or “defend my honour” which does not need defending, by the way,“ she looks at him and his eyebrows furrow disbelievingly.

“Are you joking, rookie? Seriously?“ 

She levels with him a look.

“Ginny,” his face grows somber and he shuffles over closer to her, not touching her but she can tell her wants to, his hands hovering and twitchy.

“Just because we’re together, does not mean you had any right to do that, you shouldn’t have punched him,” the regretful look on his face makes her calm down a little.

“I couldn’t do nothing, if you’d heard what he sa–” she interrupts him.

“It doesn’t matter what he said, or what anyone says! We agreed to keep us separate. You said you could handle this, Mike.” There is a note of finality in her voice that he must have picked up on because his eyes widen and he starts to look a little panicked.

“Woah, hey, I can! I can handle this,” he goes to grab her hand but she gets up, feeling trapped and antsy. He knows her well enough not to crowd her, she needs space and she’s thankful he’s giving it to her. 

“I’m tired,” her says, her voice soft and resigned.

She doesn’t want to hurt him, she doesn’t want this to end but she can’t always get what she wants and she needs to be realistic, and as harsh it may be: prioritize. She needs sleep more than anything, the events of the day are weighing heavier and heavier on her.

He nods but doesn’t look at her, eyes darting around and one of his legs starts to vibrate nervously. He’s trying to calm himself down and she wishes she had the energy to comfort him, but she doesn’t.

She suddenly wishes they had waited, at least until the off season, that way they would have had some time to themselves. Time to figure out what they were to each other, how to exist, how they were going to maintain their relationship while they were teammates. They just sort of fell into each other, being unable to deny the pull and the spark they had; the feeling between them becoming addictive much quicker than she’d anticipated.

Ginny had to admit she felt a lot for her catcher, much more than she had expected. The real Mike Lawson, not the poster or the mythical figure she’d concocted in her teenage mind, but the actual living, breathing, complex, grumpy, supportive Mike Lawson was so much better than what she had imagined. 

She’d never felt so understood by another person, so accepted and cherished. The problem was that all of it was distracting, he was distracting: she’d caught him starring at her multiple times at Petco when he shouldn’t have been, they almost got caught kissing last week because they distract each other a little too easily.

This is why she doesn’t date ballplayers, this is why she should have stuck to her rule. She feels so disappointed and sad, her shoulders all of a sudden weigh about a hundred pounds and if she does get some sleep soon she will fall over.

She wants him to stay with her, cuddle her and hold her tight; something about being in his arms makes the world go quiet and her ability to breath a little easier. But she can’t do that to herself, or to him, not if she’s planning on following through and ending things, at least temporarily. They can talk again when the season ends but she knows for now they are both going to be better off. She doubts Mike will see it that way but he’d said from the beginning of whatever they were doing that she got to call the shots because she had the most to lose.

He puts his elbows on his creaking knees and his head falls into his hands, she can see the deep breaths he’s taking.

She needs him out before she caves and asks him to stay.

“We can talk tomorrow, okay?” She says softly, making her way over to her door, her intent clear.

He grunts as he lifts himself off her couch and walks slowly over to where she’s standing, hands in his pockets and chin tucked against his chest. He stops in front of her and finally lifts his head, his eyes shiny and a little desperate.

“Can I say one thing before I go?” He asks.

She nods. 

“I’m sorry. I handled this all wrong, I let you down and I am so sorry, I need you to know that, Ginny,” he doesn’t call her by her first name often. Saving it for special moments and when they are wrapped in each other, lost in pleasure. 

“I know,” she can’t make herself look at him and he lets out a sad, resigned sigh. 

She feels his hand come up and wrap around her back of her neck, he tips his head down and kisses her on the forehead, lingering, breathing her in. Involuntarily, one of her hands comes up and curls into his shirt before she lays her palm flat on his chest and gently shoves him away. It takes everything in her to do it but she’s about three seconds away from throwing her arms around him and not letting go. 

When she finally looks up at him he looks heartbroken and scared. His hand moves around to cup her cheek, his thumb brushes once against where her dimple would be if she’d been smiling. He opens the door and walks out.

She turns the lights off and climbs into bed, not letting herself cry again, she focuses on her breathing and lets herself drift to sleep, hoping tomorrow will be better than today.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluffy fluff

“When did you know?”

They are laying in bed, Ginny on her back and Mike wrapped around her like a large, warm, muscly human blanket. He’s running a hand over her side and their feet play together idly. He’s perfectly content.

“When did I know what?” He asks, his voice a little gruff. They hadn’t spoken in a while, just laying with each in the afterglow of their reunion sex.

“That you felt something for me,” one of her hands is petting his hair and he nuzzles into her more, his beard tickling her breast and making her giggle and squirm a little. 

He takes a second to think before responding.

“I’ve felt a lot of things for you, rookie, you’re gonna need to be more specific,” he says finally. 

“When did you know you loved me, old man?” He shifts, unwrapping from her and scooting up the bed so he can lay beside her. Ginny rearranges herself with him, but they continue caressing each other, still a little touch starved.

“You remember that kangaroo court we had during your rookie season? We got rained out and Livan had just joined the team,” it seems like eons ago, when it had only been a few years. So much had changed that it honesty felt like a different lifetime. 

“You mean when you yelled at me and the team dramatically because I questioned your authority?” She looks at him incredulously, not understanding where he’s going with this. He chuckles a little. 

“I didn’t miss the sign, you know it and I know it,” he squeezes her side and she giggles, tickling him back. They play fight for a few seconds before he calls a truce after she pinches his nipple a little too hard. He loves that she hates to lose.

“Remember how I told you that Omar had a crush on you back then? Well, I didn’t tell you the full story,” he looks a little sheepish and she settles in for him to continue, eager the tale he’s about to tell. 

“I had to explain to the idiot that he wasn’t in love with you, that it was just a dumb crush because he didn’t know you at all, had barely talked to you,” his hands run up and down her arms, circling her shoulder before venturing back down.

Ginny smirks and shakes her head a little, Omar had told her about the crush too once when he got drunk after a particulary good game a couple seasons back. She’d bought his next drink or him and they had a good laugh.

“I ended up going on a small rant, giving examples of things he didn’t know about you: your hatred for cilantro, how much you love grape soda, and that you hummed Katy Perry horribly when you were stretching,” he smiles at the memory now.

She laughs a little and looks at him fondly, a hand coming up to scratch at his chin and tug on his beard like she does when she’s thinks he’s being cute.

“I wasn’t that bad, was I?” She smiles back at him, her eyebrow arching.

“Sorry, Baker, it was the worst rendition I’d ever heard,” he laughs before sobering, “but its also the reason I realized I love you.”

"Huh?“ Is her eloquent response.

"I gave you some pitching advice before the game started up again, and I remember you said you didn’t know what you’d do without me and you went back to stretching and humming as I was leaving and I remember so clearly turning back and looking at you and I just knew,” her eyes have become a little wet and she’s biting her bottom lip, looking at him with such love that he goes breathless for just a second.

“Then, because I was a scared idiot,“ he soldiers on, "I immediately tried to run away and asked to be traded to Chicago.”

“How romantic,” she says slyly, a fond smile on her face. 

He ducks his head, still a little embarrassed at his past-self’s actions.

“You terrified me, rookie,” she wraps her arms around him and gives him a tight hug, completely covering his body with hers. 

They find each other’s mouths and pour all the love and affection they can into each other, he kisses her tenderly and fiercely, so happy he can tell her this story, that this is where they ended up, that he didn’t ruin the best thing that ever happened to him. 

They settle back into bed, this time with Mike on his back and Ginny draped over him.

He smiles as he runs a light hand up and down her back.

“I would ask when you knew but we both know you’ve loved me forever, since preteen Ginny and her post–” his sentence gets cut off when she grabs a disregarded pillow and smacks him in the face with it. He grabs a pillow of his own and they begin to attack each other, laughing like children.

She wins.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some reunion sex and a sort-of prequel to the fluffy fluff fic because why not?

He thinks a cereal box must have fallen off the counter because he feels the small pops of rice crispies under his feet as he digs his fingers more firmly into the skin of her thighs. Her legs are wrapped around his waist, she lost her top and bra at some point and his shirt is open but still on, her hot hands run up and down his chest making him pant.

Ginny lets out a choked gasp when he thrusts forward into her body and he delights in how she grinds back into him, her nails scratching at his sides. Her head tips back a little and he sees her fight for air; he’d kissed her breathless the minute she’d got home. 

She’d been travelling for a string of away games and Mike hadn’t seen her in almost a week. He wasn’t even slightly ashamed to say he’d missed her terribly. When she’d walked in the door, home a few hours earlier than he’d been expecting, his heart had felt so full that he’d barely muttered a greeting before he’d wrapped himself around her like she’d just come back from war.

Mike had been stupidly restless without her, her trip the longest they’d been apart since they got together and he’d feel ridiculous if he wasn’t so in love. Besides, judging by how ferociously she’d attacked him back, he doesn’t think he was alone in his suffering. 

They’d still talked every day, even had some pretty hot phone sex on her third night away but it had just made him miss her more. Ginny was gloriously cuddly after sex, as was he, and when they’d finished his arms almost ached with a need to hold her. He’d fallen asleep to the sound of her voice which was a good, but not nearly satisfying, alternative.

This though, this is what he’d wanted: Ginny’s body flush against his, her little whimpers and moans up close, her eyes and her mouth and her back, her everything. His hands migrate from her thighs up her body to grip her breasts. She leans back more, offering herself to him freely and gratitude surges through him swiftly. He grips her tighter in response and she shudders wonderfully in his arms.

His lips kiss a trail from her neck down to her chest and he laves attention on her nipples, knowing it will make her grow impatient and twitchy. Mike loves when she gets like this, desperate and pleading for him, it fuels his ego while simultaneously being the greatest gift he’s ever received. It’s overwhelming and precious and perfect.

Her hands come up to to grip his hair tightly and Ginny pushes him more firmly into her breasts, telling him without words what she wants and he obliges happily. He bites lightly at first, then more firmly, at her left nipple before running a soothing tongue lovingly over her skin. She moans loudly as he switches to the right and repeats the same treatment. Mike smirks before blowing a soft, cool stream of air over her breasts and she shivers happily.

All of a sudden, her legs drop from his waist and he’s being pushed away from her body. She hops of the counter and quickly divests herself of the rest of her clothing, he sheds his shirt and pants frantically, already missing the feeling of her skin.

He’s about to suggest they go upstairs when she pulls his body back into hers, kissing him soundly, and he’s not going anywhere she doesn’t lead him. Mike turns her around and gives her perfect ass a playful slap; she gasps and looks over her shoulder at him, a stunning smile graces her features and he just can’t wait anymore.

When he finally, finally, pushes into her, it’s like the whole world quiets, he’s warm and comfortable and exactly where he’s supposed to be. They are both so keyed up from being apart for so long they move against each other desperately, the kitchen filling with the sounds of their love making, choked gasps and loud moans echoing off the walls. It’s like music to his ears.

He’s so close, can feel it tingling at the base of his spine, so he reaches around and rubs at her bundle of nerves loving the desperate groan that spills out of her as she nears her peak. She comes quickly and loudly, clutching him deliciously and making his eyes cross. He follows a short time after, feeling free and floaty as he rests his weight on her body, planting small kisses wherever he can reach.

“I want to fall asleep with you right here but the floor would be hell on my back,” he says into her skin, “plus there’s cereal everywhere.”

She lets out a breathless laugh and slowly straightens herself, he moves with her, both of them lethargic and slow, nearly glowing with contentedness. He squeezes her hips once before turning her body so she’s facing him and kisses her, gently and lovingly, so very happy to have her back in his arms. They leave their clothes and the mess and wander upstairs lazily, speaking in whispered tones, completely absorbed in each other.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: "I cant believe you talked me into this"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut fic!
> 
> Always feel free to come chat with me on tumblr: macaroni-rascal.tumblr.com 
> 
> <3

“I can’t believe you talked me into this.”

The words are mumbled into her neck as he sucks a mark that she will no doubt scold him for later. She giggles, glowing and tipsy. 

They’d snuck out of the celebration, the Padres had finally won the World Series, Mike Lawson was the proud owner of his hard-earned ring and was going to be making the announcement of his retirement from baseball next week. 

All of this was wonderful and what he had been working towards his entire career but at the moment, he was far more gratified by the whimpers he was coaxing out of the pitcher in his arms.

Since they got together they had been incredibly diligent to never cross a line anywhere they could get caught: never in public, never at Petco, even kept to themselves at away games. They didn’t so much as sneak a kiss over the course of the past two years. Mike figures with the season over and his retirement coming up so soon, Ginny decided to throw caution to the wind. Mike is having just a bit of trouble reconciling their usual strict rules with Ginny’s new found enthusiasm for exhibitionism. 

“I barely talked you into it, it was more of a suggestion which you happily agreed with, old man,” her voice is a little hoarse and his hands tighten around her. They should not be doing this, this was not the time for them to out themselves. 

“You’ve corrupted me, rookie,” he works his way up her neck to plant kisses into her open mouth, sweet and tangy from the cocktails she’d had. 

Ginny’s body is loose and pliant against his, she’s half leaning against the wall, half against him. She grinds into his hips, making his teeth clench and his patience wane. 

She’d said she’d wanted to show him something privately, a “retirement gift” of sorts, but the look on her face was more than telling, enough for Mike to be suspicious of her motives. Turns out, she wanted to show him the lack of panties under her dress; she’d grabbed his hands and laid them on her ass, letting him feel where she was bare under the sheer fabric. Mike barely had the strength not to press her up against the wall and have his way with her then and there, celebration and hoards of people be damned. 

They were secluded but not hidden and there was still a small voice in the back of his head that was worried about getting caught. However, that voice was growing weaker and weaker the more he lost himself in Ginny’s arms. 

She gets impatient and grabs his hand, shoving it under her dress and pressing him where she needs him. He gasps as he feels how wet she is, her thighs sticky and glorious. His head almost knocks into hers as she shudders.

“Please, Mike,” she’s begging and her voice is so wonderfully desperate in his ear. She’s rocking into his hand and he caresses her because how could he not? She moans a little too loudly when he thrusts two of his fingers into her; he brings his unoccupied hand up to cover her mouth. He stills the hand between her legs and waits for her to look at him.

Ginny always gets quickly lost in her pleasure with him. He’d asked once if it had been like that with her other partners, because it’s like as soon he’s between her legs she forgets where she is and has barely any control over her body and the sounds she makes. The first time he ate her out her thighs had clamped so hard around his head his ears had rung for minutes afterwards and she’d scratched his back so badly she’d needed to put band-aids on a few of the marks she’d left behind. She’d been embarrassed but Mike had been entranced, grateful, turned on, proud, completely and utterly in love.

She’d admitted she’d never experienced sex like she does with him. Ginny had explained that with him, she didn’t need to hold tight to her control because he made her feel safe and adored. That subsequently led to him making love to her slowly and passionately; not only to demonstrate his willingness in keeping her safe but to ground himself as well. She’d always overwhelmed him, but hearing out loud that he was the only one to make her lose her mind was devastating in the best way. 

Mike found such comfort in her body and was ecstatic that she felt the same that he’d wanted to show her he cherished what she allowed him and would never take it for granted. 

His palm is soaked and he presses himself, hard and hot, into her and he wishes they were anywhere else. He can imagine so perfectly what it feels like to be inside her it takes everything he has to wait until she looks at him. When she finally meets his eyes, coming out of her haze, he smiles down at her, dropping the hand that was over her mouth and chuckling at the disgruntled look on her face. When she tries to rock her hips again, he moves to pull his hand away from between her legs but she grabs his arm, keeping him in place. 

God, he loves how unashamed she is in how much she wants him. It makes him feel shaky, makes his chest puff out and the hairs on the back of his neck stand up; makes him want to worship her for as long as he can, as much as he can, whenever he can. 

“Two choices, Baker,” he watches as she squirms against him, eager and frustrated at his lack of movement, “we leave right now, I take you home and make you forget your own name, or we go back out to the party and continue to celebrate our win. Your choice.” He selfishly rubs the heel of his hand into her, letting her know his preference. 

She gasps and tries to chase the feeling but he stills his hand again. She takes a few deep breaths and rolls her shoulders. He’s completely unprepared when she smirks at him, pulls his hand out from her dress and sucks at the two fingers that were inside her, licking her wetness off him and moaning a little.

He almost falls over. 

She drops his hand, rights her dress as best she can and steps around him, leaning up to his ear, hot breath washing over him and he shivers involuntarily.

“Meet you at the car in 5,” and with that, she walks down the hallway, head held proud and unashamed. Mike watches as she throws a look over her shoulder that makes him grin widely.

He takes a moment to gather himself, licks his hand just because he can and dashes after her.

Happy retirement to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Comment if you'd like, its always appreciated!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Half prompted by tags: Ginny loves Mike's chest.

Ginny loves his chest.

He realized her fixation not too long ago. In the fervour of them finally getting together, it seemed like they were obsessed with every part of each other. They could barely keep their hands to themselves when they were alone and spent hours caressing and learning each other. Mike was so focused on his own appreciation of her body that he didn’t really clock her appreciation of his.

The first time he notices, he’s about to get dressed to go downstairs and start breakfast for her. Mike had quickly discovered how much he adored cooking for his rookie, she’s incredibly vocal about how much she enjoys the food he cooks and there is something intimate about watching the person you love eat food you’ve prepared for them. It makes him feel satisfied and contented that he can take care of her in all the different ways she needs. It’s an intoxicating feeling.

Ginny had been dozing when he kissed her lightly and asked if she had any requests for breakfast. She’d mumbled something about pancakes before burrowing back into her pillow. 

Mike usually goes shirtless in the morning. The season had ended and they were well into November, the weather had cooled down, the sky staying grey more often than not. He puts on a soft henley and some sweats and trots downstairs to get the pancakes started. He knows he has some blueberries left in the fridge he thinks he’ll add to the batter.

He’s about to call for Ginny when she comes down the stairs, hair wild and rubbing at her eyes. She’s wearing one of his plaid shirts and it makes his body clench. Such a wonderful sight.

She levels him with a confused, if not slightly annoyed, expression as she walks over to him. He’s a second away from asking her what’s wrong when her sleep warm body leans against his own, her hands slipping under the fabric of his shirt and caressing his sides and chest. He hugs her back, breathing her in and enjoying the moment.

Ginny leans back and pinches at his shirt.

“Since do you where a shirt in the morning, old man?" 

"So, you can wear my shirts but I can’t?” He chuckles at her, not totally understanding her question. It’s not like they are naked around each other all the time. Just most of the time.

She lifts his shirt, discards it carelessly and cuddles back into him. He won’t lie and say he doesn’t prefer it this way, he can feel her much better like this and he’s not worried about being cold anymore. She nuzzles her face into his chest and her hands rub up and down his arm before squeezing his shoulders and finally settling on his abdominal muscles..

“No more shirts in the morning, it’s a rule,” she plants kisses on his chest as she speaks, making him quickly forget about the stack of blueberry pancakes and fresh fruit he’d prepared.

“Does that go for both of us or just me, Baker?” His hands run up and down her back comfortingly and he smirks when she steps away and unbuttons her (his) shirt quickly, leaving it on the floor beside his own forgotten henley. His hands are already itching to get back on her skin.

They end up eating cold pancakes, but they taste just fine in Mike’s opinion.

That was his first clue.

Then it starts to becomes more and more obvious.

When they cuddle, her hands constantly caress his chest, digging her fingers into his skin. It that make him want to do something ridiculous like purr, or burrow himself inside her and never leave.

When they have sex and she’s on top, her hands always plant themselves on his pecs or his abs. Ginny loves running her nails over him, leaving shallow marks and kissing them later on. He loves it just as much, makes him feel possessed and possessive; its such a heady sensation that he can barely get enough.

She loves, loves, loves sucking marks into his chest. In the few months since they got together Mike has had hickeys in various states and colour patterns all over his torso. She is particularly fond of the piece of skin below his belly button and the area between his neck and left shoulder. There have been marks there, consistently, since the first time Ginny got her mouth on him.

Mike finally decides to mention her fixation one morning while she’s watching him get ready. He has an interview with a network for a part time commentator gig and he’s trying to decided what shirt to pair with his suit. Ginny is sitting on the bed, legs crossed, gazing at him openly and appreciatively. He’s asked her for her opinion and after her fourth veto, her smile growing just a little every time he strips his shirt off, he cracks.

“Take a picture, Baker, it’ll last longer,” he walks over to her slowly, pants unbuttoned and shirtless. He watches as her eyes go a dark, running up and down his chest before setting on his face and smiling innocently up at him. 

“Hmm?” She bites her lip, her dimples winking at him.

He gestures to himself and grins.

“It’s clear you have a thing for my chest, I’m just saying: if you took a picture, I might be able to finally decide on what shirt to wear,” he stops in front of her, her face goes a little red as he speaks but she doesn’t deny it and it makes him smirk.

Her bottom lip is freed from between her teeth and she grins at him, wide and unashamed. Ginny crawls to grab her cell from the bedside table; he takes an appreciative glance of his own. She turns back, still smiling, and opens the camera. She lifts her phone, and smirks back at him.

“Show me what ya got, Lawson.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: "You said that you and Davis had played together and that’s it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little drabble, bit of angst. 
> 
> Enjoy! <3

“You said that you and Davis had played together and that’s it.”

He doesn’t sound angry, if anything he sounds confused and maybe a little disappointed. 

She didn’t want to have to talk about this with anyone, let alone with Mike. She had hoped the book was closed on that part of her life and yet here she was, needing to explain, if not defend, her actions. 

Things had been somewhat awkward between them ever since the night at the bar; with her injury and him getting back with Rachel, they’d lost some of their easy back-and-forth. They were still friends, she still called him an old man sometimes and he still treated her like a rookie. But there was a thread of tension whenever they were alone, or if they realized they were standing too close, if the conversation veered into dangerous territory.

Like right now. 

The hairs on the back of her neck stand up and she wishes she didn’t need to have this conversation. 

“Yeah, we dated for a bit,” she avoids looking at him and she’s not sure why. 

He’s still with Rachel, she and Noah had ended things. She was only so good at pretending, it became more and more obvious to both of them that Ginny wasn’t happy. The break up had been amicable, she was grateful. 

She sees his hands fidget at his sides and a seed of annoyance blooms in her chest. Why did it matter?

He clears his throat once.

“I thought you had a rule about players,” his voice is gruff, low. Her eyes snap to his, brow furrowing.

“He’s was an exception I shouldn’t have made,” she shrugs uselessly, still retroactively irritated with herself for not sticking to her rule.

Mike chuckles sarcastically and shakes his head, his hands go to his hips and the small bloom of annoyance grows, she can feel her throat tightening and her hands begin to shake. 

“What, old man?” She asks impatiently.

“No, it’s nothing, Baker, it’s nothing at all,” he’s clearly holding something back and her hands ball into fists. She could easily accept his obvious lie or she could push. The sardonic smile he throws at her makes her crack.

“Out with it, Lawson.” She shifts form foot to foot, crossing her arms to ground herself.

“It’s just – well I think it’s interesting you could make an exception for Davis, but not –,” he cuts himself off and her stomach drops. 

She didn’t think he would go there. Ginny figured he’d call her a hypocrite for breaking her own rule, or stupid for dating a player to begin with. She looks away and takes a breath to calm herself down.

“Yeah, well, he’s the reason I take the rule so seriously now,” he squints at her, like he doesn’t believe what she’s saying; she shrugs again, “fool me once…”

Mike stays tense and silent, assessing her. He nods, taking a breath.

“Shame on me,” he whispers as he passes her, heading to the clubhouse.

Her eyes close for a few moments, she shakes out her limbs and turns to follow him.

They have a game to play.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sinning sunday fic: mike likes morning sex the best

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

Mike likes morning sex the best.

It didn’t used to be that way. He wasn’t usually picky, more of an any-time-any-place kind of guy. Things, of course, are different with Ginny. 

He really needs to stop being surprised every time she inspires something new in him. It’s quite obvious, through both observation and empirical study, that Ginny Baker stirs a singular feeling within him, a particular affection that he doubts will ever be able to reproduced by anything or anyone else. She’s it. She’s everything. 

In the morning, Ginny becomes hazy, unashamed, free.

When she is fully cognizant, Mike still finds she holds herself back sometimes, she doesn’t let herself be as loud as she wants, to ask for what she wants. He understands, it’s hard to let go when you’ve been taught how to hold on your whole life.

Mike is, and almost always has been, a selfish person. Call it a fallout of his childhood, call it ego attached to his fame, call it whatever you want, Mike will admit to his self-centredness. He is, by far, most selfish when it comes to Ginny. 

He loves loves loves when she’s uninhibited with him, when she exists as an instrument he gets to play to perfection. It so glorious to watch and he’s unstoppably greedy for it. 

Mike knows that as soon as she realizes she’s awake, Ginny will start to go over all the things she needs to do that day; what her work out will be, what her responsibilities are. She is a very pragmatic person the majority of the time, and he loves that about her.

He just happens to also love that he can make her forget where she is, what she needs to get done that day, even her own name. Now that’s he’s retired, he has much more time on his hands and he finds that he’s content to spend a good chunk of that time imagining ways to make Ginny the happiest she can be.

Like right now.

He’d been placing small kisses along her legs and stomach, she’s still in the haze of sleep and he enjoys her body shamelessly. Mike carefully manoeuvres himself between her legs and starts to lay kisses on the insides of her thighs, before planting his mouth over the seam of her body and giving her the same soft, slow kisses. 

She’s getting wetter and wetter and Mike can tell that she’s going to wake up soon so he adds a little more pressure, giving her a teasing tongue and a hint of teeth. He smiles into her when he feels her hands land on his shoulder and in his hair. 

She moans loudly, guttural and satisfied, and he refocuses his efforts. Mike knows she hasn’t opened her eyes yet. He wants to keep her in that state, that half-asleep-half-pleasured place where nothing bad happens and the world is quiet and slow.

He delves into her with his tongue and she pushes back into him, grinding on his face with abandon and he preens at her lack of restraint. She’s making loud, whining noises that mean more to him than any trophy he’s ever received. He slows his pace because he wants her to beg. He wants her to get lost in the feelings he’s supplying her. 

“Pl-ease, Mmmm, Mike! Mike!” She babbles, her voice breaking and raspy from sleep. 

Ginny nearly sobs when he laves at her bundle of nerves fiercely, giving her hard licks that have her gasping and groaning hoarsely. She doesn’t think, she just reacts, and it’s so wonderful to witness. He feels incensed with the need to please her.

She comes loudly and unguardedly and he doesn’t stop for a second. Instead, he grabs her legs and folds them up to her chest, spreading her open to him and his mouth as he continues his assault, addicted to how she’s shaking and saying his name.

“Mike! I-I-oh go-” she comes again, nearly shrieking her release, her entire body vibrating as she tries desperately to scramble away from his mouth. 

He lets up slowly, placing soft kisses, the same ones he woke her up with, all over her as she comes slowly back to herself. Her breath is laboured and she’s glowing with perspiration, chest heaving while her whole body twitches uncontrollably with aftershocks.

Because he can, he licks over her hard once just to see her choke on her breath, moaning pitifully, “Oh! Mike!” He does it once more, then one more time after that. When she almost knees him, too sensitive to control herself, he finally pulls back.

He crawls up and lays beside her, settling a hand on her chest so he can feel her heartbeat and the rise and fall of her breathing. He caresses her breasts, stomach, and throat lightly, lazily, possessively, and she smiles the whole time, eyes still closed. 

When she finally opens her big, brown eyes to look up at him, content and fond, he smiles back.

“Morning,” he says as he runs a hand through his damp beard. She licks her lips and Mike smirks.

“Mmm, good morning,” she rasps back.

She lifts her arms above her head and stretches, groaning happily and he stares at the flex and pull of her muscles, entranced by the movement.

He leans over to kiss her finally, biting her bottom lip before pushing his tongue into her mouth, tasting her, morning sour and perfect. She presses against him, curves and strong muscle. Mike rolls on top of her and settles between her legs, groaning when his dick connects where she’s still warm, wet, and sensitive. He rocks his hips into her lazily, enjoying her body and her mouth and her hands, hands which run up a down his back deliciously, scratching lightly.

He pulls back, lifting himself to his elbows but keeping their bodies connected. Mike brushes a few curly strands of hair away from her face and smiles down at her again. Because he can’t help himself, he leans down and kisses both her dimples, making her giggle and wriggle against him. 

Mike lets out a dramatic gasp when one of her hands comes down to pinch his ass. He laughs before sticking his face in her neck and tickling her with his beard. She starts cackling, that perfect hoarse-y laugh that warms him to his very core.

Good morning indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comment if you'd like, it's always welcome. <3


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mini smut fic

When they first get together, they disappear into each other for a few weeks. They are that couple that do everything together, touch constantly, sit-on-the-same-side-of-the-booth sort of couple. The sort of couple that would be annoying if they weren’t so sweet. They also become the I-need-you-now-right-now-all-the-time sort of couples.

The day after he retires he shows up at her place and kisses her before she can greet him. It’s like floodgates open up. Like every intense look, every charged conversation, every touch had been building to this and as soon as they let themselves be together, they get addicted. He’s addicted.

Mike feels like he tastes nothing but her skin for days, like he’s living off her and her off him. 

They spend hours memorizing and learning, becoming experts in each other. Mike knows that Ginny will lose her mind if he whispers to her about how good it feels to be inside her; he knows that if he bites on her shoulder she’ll whine like she’s dying; he knows that if she’s riding him she’ll tune him out completely and do whatever she wants to chase her pleasure. 

It’s heady, intense, as beautiful as it is obscene. 

He’s on top of her, kissing her deeply, rocking into her body in a lazy way that makes her twitchy and impatient. But he knows she loves it just as much, loves to exist with him, connected and together.

She moans wonderfully and tries to buck her hips into his, but he stops his movement, muscles tensing with the need to thrust, but the sounds she makes are worth it.

“Impatient, Baker?” He says with a cocky smile.

“Shut up and do that thing I like, old man,” she tries to be assertive but she’s breathless and her voice sounds raw.

“What thing would that be?” He rocks his hips again, watching her eyes close and her head tilt back. He doesn’t mean to be smug, but there are a lot of things he does that she likes. 

“Mike! I swear to go-” she chokes out a breath when he starts rocking into her in earnest, hitting that spot inside her that makes her forget her name and inevitably leads to angry red marks blooming along his back from where she can’t help but claw at him in ecstasy.

He loves it, craves it, needs to make her feel this way. Needs to make sure she knows, deep down, just how well he can make her fall apart.

And he does, over and over and over again.

Like he said, he’s addicted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Bawson secret dates and getting caught by paparazzi or recognized

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short little prompt! Enjoy!

They are in Toronto for a series of games against the Blue Jays when Mike suggests going out for supper, just the two of them. 

“Just the two of us? No team?” She asks incredulously. 

Since getting together she’s been surprised by how diligent Mike was with keeping their relationship under wraps. He’d explained that he was protective of her and her career, that he knew the damage that could be done if word got out. 

He was retiring after this year, they’d planned to make an announcement during spring training the following season. They knew they’d catch hell, but at least with Mike officially gone from the team, there would be no story to follow on the field. 

“Why not? Teammates have suppers together, we’ve gone out in San Diego before and been good. We’ll just do middle school dance rules, we’ll be fine,” he shrugs and saunters over to her, hands wrapping around her waist and a cock-sure smile on his face.

“Middle school dance rules?” She raises an eyebrow; she’d never actually been to a school dance.

“Three feet apart at all times, no funny business,” he says in an obvious tone, nodding decisively. 

She laughs a little, shaking her head at him fondly. 

“C'mon, Baker, live a little,” he raises his eyebrows and widens his eyes comically, shaking her hips where he’s holding her. 

“Okay, middle school dance rules,” she acquiesces, a dinner with just them did sound nice.

“Good,” he goes to step away, apparently deciding the date was starting immediately.

“Come back, we haven’t even left the hotel room,” she wraps her arms up around his neck and pulls him down to meet her lips, smiling into his mouth. 

He accepts the kiss, flicking a teasing tongue over her bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth. He pulls back quicker than she’s likes or expects. 

“See? This is the type of funny business we cannot abide. Tighten up, rookie,” he struts over to the door, slapping her ass as he passes. 

——————– 

They are walking down the street together, going to a restaurant Evelyn suggested. She knows the major playing cities impressively well and is always good for a recommendation.

They aren’t three feet apart, closer to one, but the streets are relatively crowded for a Thursday evening. When they get to the restaurant, Mike makes a show of not opening the door for her, she laughs at him and his antics. He proceeds to not pull out her chair, orders first, and makes fun of her food choice, just to be sure, as he says.

They are having a nice time, laughing and chatting about this and that. She’d really rather he be on her side of the booth because it’s colder than she’d expected and she knows how warm his body is, plus there are few activities that aren’t improved by doing them while also cuddling Mike Lawson. 

Watching TV is definitely more fun, she’s sleeping better, showers are tricky, but they make do. 

Since they need to be so professional at work and in public, they get a little touch starved and end up coiled around each other during their alone time. It’s a balancing act, but they’ve done well so far. 

They are chuckling about a joke Salvi tried and failed to tell when Mike curses lowly, ducking his head.

“What’s wrong?“ She asks.

"I think there some fans here, Baker, we just got our picture taken by the table over there,” a surreptitious head tilt to the side has her glancing over to see two couples with their phones out, trying very hard not to appear like they are taking their picture but failing completely. 

“We are just friends out for supper, it’ll be fine Mike, it’s happened a couple times back home and nothing’s come of it,” right now would be the time she’d kiss him reassuringly, or hug him, or at the very least but a hand on his arm but she refrains. 

He gives her a knowing and loving smile over the table, kicks her foot once and they dig back into their food.

The fans eventually work up the courage to come over, after Mike and Ginny had finished eating, to get selfies and awkwardly apologize for taking their picture without permission. 

—————-

Images surface of them on their date the next day. They aren’t doing anything romantic, if it weren’t for the very obvious and adoring look on Mike’s face they may have gotten away with it. 

As it is, Ginny’s just happy she can hold his hand in public now. The rest, they’ll deal with together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: “How can anyone not be afraid of love?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> little, slightly angsty fic, full of Mike's pinning and Blip's wisdom

“How can anyone not be afraid of love?”

“Spoken like a divorced guy in his 30′s, Lawson,” Blip says teasingly. 

Mike levels a glare at the baseball player beside him, not even acknowledging the comment. Blip is one of the lucky ones, he found the person he wanted to be with early in life and has never looked back or questioned his choice. He has two beautiful children and a partner that understands and supports him, he has no reason to fear love. It’s been nothing but good to him.

For Mike, and for many others, love makes him trepidatious, makes him nervous and antsy. It’s different when you’ve had it, then lost it. It makes the possibility of loosing it again so much more real. If it happened once, who’s to say it won’t happen again.

Looking across the clubhouse, he watches Ginny laugh uproariously at something Dusty said, throwing her head back and letting her joy shine through unashamedly. 

Mike wonders if he’ll get to a place where looking at Ginny doesn’t cause a sudden barrage of unshakable fear and blind hope to surge through him simultaneously. He thinks that’s what is actually terrifying him, that he’s feeling hope for the first time in a long time. 

Hope is just as dangerous and frightening as love, it sets you up for failure, for disappointment. He wants to think its not inevitable but all his personal experience would suggest otherwise. 

Ginny catches his eye and smiles at him, wide and friendly, gesturing to the gym where they’d planned to go over the hitters. 

“It’s love you’re afraid of, huh?” Blip’s voice startles him just a little. When he glances over, his teammate has a knowing look on his face, telling Mike his few moments of pinning where observed by his friend.

Once again, Mike elects not to answer.

“Cause it seems to me like love sounds an awful lot like ‘Ginny’, wouldn’t you say?” Mike frissons at his Blip’s tone, astute and teasing.

Rather than argue uselessly, he just gets up and heads to the gym. He doesn’t let himself think about just how right Blip is, or that ‘Ginny’ and ‘love’ have become synonymous and undeniably linked for him for longer than he’d liked to admit. 

Instead, he waits for Ginny, feeling hopeful and afraid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! <3


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: “It’s 8:30, I have a hangover and you’re annoying me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some mike and ginny feels, before they get together

“It’s 8:30, I have a hangover and you’re annoying me.” 

“Then why did you answer the door? You’re the one who said you wanted to do more endurance training,” Ginny looks at him, completely unrepentant, uncaring towards his pounding headache, the acrid taste of stale beer in his mouth, and his overall desire to slowly curl up and die.

“I answered,” he replies with a long suffering sigh, “because you wouldn’t stop knocking and I was trying to sleep.”

He was in too much pain and too much of a bad mood to explain to her young and virile self that hangovers when you’re in your thirties feel a lot different than they do in your twenties. He remembers coming to spring training hungover, doing BP while still a little drunk, he’s even played a couple games while the threat of loosing his stomach all over the catcher’s box was an ever present possibility. He may have felt like crap, but he never missed the work.

This though, this thing with Ginny is not work, its his free time he’s choosing to spend with the over-eager rookie. Not a rookie anymore though, he corrects himself. They are well into her second season, her arm is back and better than ever, the Padres now have two new rookie players who have taken up the nickname. 

In his mind though, Ginny was his last rookie. He’s retiring after this year and he wanted to end well, a feeling he’d shared with Ginny who had offered to train with him, to keep him motivated and on task. He’s constantly amazed by her determination and will, she makes no excuses, and doesn’t accept them either.

It is a character trait he is normally grateful for, but right now, he really wishes she had decided to make an exception and sleep in today. 

He shoos her inside when she just stares at him expectantly.

“So we aren’t going for a run or practicing the yoga poses I showed you then?” She makes herself at home in his kitchen, opening the fridge and pouring herself some orange juice, grabbing an apple off the counter which she immediately bites into.

“If I try downward dog I’m going to vomit all over that nice new yoga mat you got me, Baker, so no, we aren’t doing any of that,” he makes his way back up to his bedroom, already imagining how good it’s going to feel to drop his head back onto the cool pillow. 

“So you’re just bailing?” She half yells to his retreating back, mouth full of apple, coming out a little garbled.

“Sure am!” He shouts back, regretting it when his voice reverberates in his temples, making him dizzy for a second.

He sighs happily when his bed feels just as good, if not better, than he expected. What he doesn’t expect is for Ginny to follow him up upstairs and lay down beside him.

“I’m in no shape for that kind of exercise either, rookie,” he mumbles into the pillow, grunting dramatically when she claps her hands directly over his ear.

“You’re gross, and if we aren’t going to work out then I may as well nap with you so we can stick to our regimen when we wake up,” she says it like its obvious, like he’s going to do anything other than drag himself to In-N-Out for greasy food before returning to his house and nursing his headache for the rest of the day.

Rather than argue with her, knowing it will be useless, he just murmurs in the affirmative and lets himself drift back to sleep, a snoozing pitcher beside him.

When he wakes up again he smells food and is surprised to find out she’d left and come back with burgers and large fries for the both of them. She shrugs, saying everyone deserves a day off once in a while. They pass the rest of the afternoon on his couch, not doing much of anything. 

Not the worst way to spend a hangover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! <3


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: "what are you doing in my house?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some platonic-ish flirting and fluff!

“What are you doing in my house?” 

She’s sitting on his couch, his favourite cereal in her lap, one hand reaching in to grab another handful, literally looking like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar, or in this case, the cereal box.

She’s paused mid-bite, her mouth screwed up a little as she finishes chewing, shooting him a slightly guilty smile when he walks over to her. He doesn’t sit, just plants his feet and crosses his arms, waiting for an explanation.

“I was hungry,” she supplies, before shoving another handful of Cap’n Crunch into her mouth.

“Hungry? Baker, how’d you get in? The door was locked!” He finally sits beside her, grabbing the cereal out of her hands, tossing a few pieces into his mouth as he watches her fidget nervously.

“I took your extra key with me last time I was over,” the side of her mouth pulls down as she guiltily admits to the theft, “I had to wait outside for a half hour till you got here remember? I was cold.”

By the end of her explanation, she looks less guilty and more like she’s confused why he cares. It’s not like she doesn’t spend most of her free time hanging out with him at his place anyway.

“So you stole from me? Then broke into my house? Then stole from me again?” He waves the cereal around for emphasis. He’s not really mad, but messing with her has always been one of his favourite pass times. 

“Is it technically breaking in if I have a key?”She asks in a high voice, hunching her shoulders.

“Considering you stole the key, yes, it still counts, Baker! And who said you could eat my cereal?” He lets her take the box back, he’d let her do anything, he thinks idly.

She’s munching happily, giggling at his disgruntlement.

“The first time I was over you said, and I quote: ‘what’s mine is yours, rookie’, and I took that literally.”

She just smiles at him, tipping the box of cereal in his direction before turning her attention back to his TV. He settles beside her, quietly ecstatic she’s with him. 

As much as he was surprised to find her in his home, its a sight he could get used to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: “My nightmares are usually about loosing you”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some angst, then fluff <3

Ginny had woken up in a sweat, her sleep shirt sticking to her neck and armpits uncomfortably, shivering immediately once she freed herself from the blankets wrapped around her. She’d padded softly over the shower, conscious not to wake Mike, he had an early morning and a bad dream wasn’t worth waking him.

She shed her sleep clothes, closed the door to the bathroom silently and climbed into the shower, letting the too-hot water wash away the tacky feeling of her skin and the remnants of her dream. She turned and dipped her chin down, letting the water hit the back of her neck and run down her body, loosening her tense muscles, helping her breath normally again.

Flashes of her dream played behind her eyelids like a horror movie, mangled metal, shattered glass on pavement, blood dropping from a steering wheel. 

She turned and let the water run over her face, scrubbing at her skin like she could wash away the fear still coiled in the pit of her stomach. 

She’s fine, Mike is fine, everything is fine.

When she makes her way back into the bedroom, finding one of Mike’s shirts to sleep in before climbing back into bed, she’s disappointed to see him awake and waiting for her. Ginny doesn’t want to talk about it, especially not right now. She feels raw, vulnerable, exposed.

“You okay?” He asks, his voice rough from sleep.

She doesn’t answer, just nods and cuddles into his side, letting the feeling of his solid body ground her some. Mike smells wonderful, like home and safety. When another flash of her nightmare pops into her head, unannounced and unwanted, she tightens her hold on him, shivering despite herself.

“Ginny?” He gets her to sit up so he can look at her. He turns and flicks the bedside lamp on before running a comforting touch down her arm, holding her hand.

She doesn’t know what to say, or how to even begin to explain her fears. Mike knows her dad died, not how or why. She’s been reluctant to talk about it, voicing one fear will make all the rest bubble inside her and she’s not ready to boil over yet, content to let everything simmer for a while.

“I have nightmares too sometimes. Like this one time I was naked while at bat and the entire pitching line up of the Dodgers were throwing baseballs at me,” he shudders dramatically, “not even wearing a cup.” 

He smiles indulgently at her when she lets out a breathy laugh. The levity helps to distract her. She wants to be honest with him, he deserves it and as much as it is going to hurt, the only way she’s going to get past this is to deal with it.

“My nightmares are usually about loosing you,” she says finally, not looking at him. 

His big, warm hand comes up and cups her cheek. She leans into him, bringing her hand up to keep him where he is. The callouses are wonderfully comforting, rough and real, grounding. 

“I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere,” he pulls them back down onto the bed, turning off the light, not pushing or asking what she dreamed about. She’s grateful.

Instead, he just curls his body around hers, breathing in time with her until she eventually falls back asleep, safe and secure in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: “I’ve been buying the wrong underwear.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some fluffy fluff with some sexy at the end

“I’ve been buying the wrong underwear.”

Mike has no idea how to reply to her statement, so he doesn’t. Instead, he just raises his eyebrows, hoping his silent confusion will speak for itself. 

They’d planned to have a lazy day in, watch some old games, cook something, maybe go for a walk later. It’s wonderfully warm outside, Mike knows Ginny has a spare bathing suit somewhere, he’s thinking about suggesting they go for a swim.

It’s only when he takes in what she’s wearing does he fully understand.

“These are so much more comfortable,” she climbs onto the bed, sitting crossed legged next to him as she eats the snacks she’d went downstairs to retrieve. 

She’s wearing a pair of his boxers, the band rolled up so they fit around her waist. She looks amazing, long legs completely bare; his hands start to itch. 

“So, you’re saying you want to continue to steal my clothes?” He asks, noticing she’s also wearing an old t-shirt of his from his rookie days that doesn’t fit him anymore, but looks like art on her.

Ginny smiles slyly at him, setting her plate down on the floor beside her, rising to her hands and knees and crawling over to him, straddling his lap gracefully. He straightens against he headboard, hands immediately going to her waist before running around and up her ribs, letting his thumbs brush lightly at the underside of her breasts before sliding back down to rest on her ass. 

He takes a moment to count his blessings.

“Are you complaining?” She asks in a lilting voice, settling on top of him comfortably, hands resting on his shoulders.

Mike feels like he swallowed his tongue, she’s warm and soft against him and he can’t help his body’s reaction. He’s understanding more and more that he has very little control over himself where she’s concerned. 

Ginny notices, because of course she does, and starts rocking down into him, moving over him in a way and that has his head tipping back and his hips bucking up.

Hands on his cheeks have him refocusing on her face, she’s smirking and doing nothing to hide her lust or amusement. She kisses him soundly, licking into his mouth and biting his lip like it’s a promise she’s going to fulfill. 

“I don’t care what underwear you’re wearing, Baker, so long as I’m the only one taking them off you,” he growls into her mouth before lifting her off his lap and all but tossing her beside him on the bed, quickly covering her body with his own.

Lazy day in indeed.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: “It’s not like I missed you or anything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mike missed her, obviously.

“It’s not like I missed you or anything.” 

Ginny laughs breathlessly, resting her hands on her stomach as she she slowly comes back to herself. She feels pleasantly numb but her extremities are tingling intensely, small aftershocks still running through her body.

“You didn’t miss me? Not even a little?” She asks, lolling her head to the side, not having the energy quite yet to fully turn her body towards him.

“Honestly? I didn’t even realize you were gone,” he says it seriously but she can see the side of his mouth tip up in a smile underneath the beard that has somehow doubled in size since she’s been away. If she didn’t know any better she’d say the man was half-bear. 

“Well, in that case…,” she’s finally found her legs and makes a show of trying to heave herself out of the bed when a strong, exquisitely muscled arm wraps quickly around her midsection and drags her back onto the sheets.

Mike brings her flush against him, spooning her. She didn’t know she’d be the type to prefer a human blanket to a real one, but the feel of Mike’s strong, solid, thick body draped over hers is something akin to perfection and the only source of warmth she truly craves. 

He buries his face in the back of her neck, licking the sweat off her nape and sucking a bruise into her skin, like he wants proof of their connection, like he needs to, like seeing his mark on her will help ground him. Mike did this the last time she’d returned after travelling for a string of away games; she’s not complaining. 

One of her hands reaches around to cup the back of his head, she pushes back into him, encouraging what he’s doing. Ginny wants the mark too; she wants to press her fingers against it and feel it throb later. Her low ponytail will hide the mark at her game tomorrow and that’s why he’s putting it there, she just knows it. 

She thinks about being on the mound and looking at Mike in the stands, a constant supportive presence for her. She thinks about catching his eye and rubbing at her neck, the smile she’ll throw his way. She thinks about the heat and promise in his eyes.

He’s been beyond supportive since he retired, coming to all her games, no less a staple at Petco than when he was captain. He wears her jersey proudly, occasionally joined by Gabe, Marcus, and Evelyn when they decide to venture down to the stands from the WAG box. Mike prefers to watch the games where he can get a good view and actively participate. 

“How are you supposed to hear me cheering when I’m hundreds of feet away from you, Baker?” He’d said after he’d come to her first game since retiring. Her eyes can find him every game, she’s not complaining about that either.

He bites her neck one last time before burying his face in her hair. She feels him take a few deep breaths, his gentle exhales make goosebumps appear along her arms; the rapidly cooling sweat heightening the sensation and making her tremble. 

He mumbles something she can’t quite make out.

“Hmm?” She murmurs, eyes closed and the most content she’s been in weeks.

“I may have missed you a little,” his hands tighten around her as he tries to bring her closer, wanting to eliminate any space between them. 

“I missed you a little too,” she whispers back. 

She swears she can hear his smile.

It’s good to be home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: “Never mind, the moment’s gone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cute, weird, fluffy, smutty fic

“Never mind, the moment’s gone.” 

“Mi-ike!” She can’t stop giggling, his name coming out jumbled through her cackles.

He’s still inside her and and he feels so amazing. Ginny is maybe more turned on than before, the laughter and involuntary chuckles from Mike making her feel warm, elated, giddy.

He’d been holding her like she was something precious, she could feel the love and intensity in his hands, looking at her like he was in awe, saying words that were so beautiful and passionate, heartfelt and true.

And then she’d sneezed.

Right in his face.

The look of surprise and vague disgust colouring his features had made her fall into hysterics, unable to stop herself. She’d had felt her nose start to tingle, but tried to wriggle it away by shooting him a messed up smile while he waxed poetic about her dimples.

He’d grabbed the sheet and rubbed his face with it while she tried to calm herself, only making her laugh harder. It’s not like they hadn’t shared bodily fluids before. He probably had more of her saliva on his face, neck, and chest from her lips and tongue than what she sneezed on him, but it was still hilarious.

Ginny starts to quiet down, but the look on Mike’s face pops into her mind again and she dissolves into giggles. She can hear him grumbling as he shifts his hips and she lets out a little moan between her giggles. The feeling of him, so perfect and hard inside her, breaks through her laughter for a moment.

Mike must have realized because the next thing she knows he’s muttering “that’s it” and grabbing her hands, lifting them above her head and thrusting into her hard, bringing her attention back to where he wants it.

Her chuckles get caught in her throat as the lust that had dimmed slightly flares back to life, her entire body refocusing on the sensations he was drawing out of her.

“Try to be romantic,” he grunts, never losing rhythm, “and you sneeze on me,” one of his hands travels down her arm, over her breast to find the center of her body, rubbing against where she’s most sensitive.

“Oh! Mike!” Ginny is slowly being consumed by a sharp, hot pleasure she has no control over. She’s trembling and so close to the edge already she’s dizzy from it. How does he do this to her? Make her go from distracted laughter to a moaning mess in a matter of minutes?

She grinds her body against him, desperate to fall over the edge he’s ruthlessly driving her to.

He starts rubbing small, rough circles over her bundle of nerves and she can’t breathe. She comes. Her entire body tightens to the point of almost pain before she flies apart, twitching uncontrollably and whimpering as she comes back to herself. He follows quickly, a choked groan escaping him as he collapses on top of her.

She runs a light hand up and down his back and smiles when she feels him shiver all over, hips still rocking into her body. 

Mike rolls himself over and looks at her fondly, lifting a hand to tweak her nose, making her giggle again.

“At least I didn’t fart.” She says, playful and joyous.

This time, he’s the one who can’t stop laughing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! <3


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> eyeslikeliquidfire asked for a prequel to [this fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9282575/chapters/21359834) in which Mike finds out that Ginny dated Trevor Davis...and then this happened
> 
> Mike finds out about Ginny and Trevor during a couples supper. 
> 
> Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

Mike is experiencing a strange kind of déjà vu. 

He and Rachel had couple diners with Blip and Evelyn before they got divorced, not super often considering all their schedules, but usually at least once every few months. This is the first time they’ve all been together since he got back together with Rachel.

He’s not sure if he’s thankful or annoyed at Evelyn’s slight, but evident, cold shoulder towards his ex-wife. He appreciates the fact that she’s protective and maybe still a little angry at Rachel for cheating. It is helping him feel more grounded; like he’s not insane for wanting to be cautious with his new-slash-old relationship.

Rachel had broached the subject of them living together and while all his past feelings and interactions with her would suggest that he’d be all for it, all for diving back into the life he’d made with her, something in his gut made him hold off. He wasn’t ready. Despite their history, they’d only been back together a couple months and there was no need to rush anything.

Rachel hadn’t been happy with his tentativeness, but it seemed like she understood. That’s what she told him anyway. Every time he chose to spend the night alone, she’d get this look on her face, this perturbed and disappointed look that should probably make him feel like he was failing at something. He wishes it bothered him more than it did.

“...like with Ginny and Trevor, that probably shouldn’t have happened.” 

He snaps out of his reverie at the mention of Ginny. Mike realizes he’s been staring at his plate for the better part of five minutes, completely deaf to the people and conversation around him. 

Trevor, as in Trevor Davis? 

He watches Evelyn aptly, hoping she’ll give up more information.

“Anyway...,” Evelyn flicks her fork in the air, looking like she’s about to change the subject.

“Trevor Davis?” He asks, the words tumbling out of his mouth before he can stop them. 

He feels more than sees Rachel’s reaction; there is a tightening in the air like everyone took a breath at the same time.

Evelyn’s eyes go wide. Mike glances at Blip and he’s staring pointedly at the food in front of him, though Mike can see the uncomfortable look on his face. This is going to eat at him if he doesn’t get more information. That guy? Were they together? When? While they were both players? On the same team? 

When no one answers, Mike can’t help but prompt again. 

“Trevor Davis, the catcher for the Cardinals?” He should probably be trying to sound more casual, but the desire to get answers outweighs the expectation for propriety. 

“Mike.” Rachel’s tone of voice is telling him to cease and desist but he doesn’t listen.

He watches as Evelyn looks to Blip, who shakes his head just a little bit; they have a short, silent conversation before Evelyn turns back to him, giving a slightly manic smile, like she’s impatient for this conversation to be over and regrets even bringing it up.

“It was a long time ago,” is what she finally says, which doesn’t help to clear up anything at all. 

“How long ago?” He leans forward, trying to catch Evelyn’s eyes. There is a reason she’s being to cagey about this. She’s normally a very open person, someone who enjoys harmless gossip like this. But for Mike, and for the growing knot of anxiety in his stomach, this doesn’t feel harmless. Maybe Evelyn sees that too. 

“I don’t see why it matters,” Rachel says before Evelyn can answer. He glances at her, she looks more confused than anything. He doesn’t have the time, the means, or even the self-awareness to explain why it matters. It just does. 

He goes with something simple.

“We got into it with them, Ginny shoved Davis and her and Miller got kicked out of the beanball game, remember?” Keep the focus on baseball, keep it professional and nonthreatening.

Blessedly, she rolls her eyes and takes another bite of food, indifference clear all over her features.

He turns back to Evelyn, who’s now appraising Mike like he’s the one she wants to pry information out of; he will not be deterred. There are times for subtlety and this is not one of them. His palms are starting to itch and his brain is conjuring up images of them together. He just raises his eyebrows at Ev, waiting impatiently for her to keep talking.

“It was back in the minors, they played together. It didn’t end well.” Mike takes a breath and tries to orient all the information he has with how Ginny was acting when she was talking with Davis, how she skirted the question about her past with him, how carefully she chose her words.

“She dated a teammate?” She has a rule, he knows she does. Was Davis the reason for the rule, or the exception?

That grabs Rachel’s attention again. He’s being quite obvious that his interest isn’t baseball related. He tells himself to reel it in a little, to let his shoulders drop, but the images of Ginny and Davis are becoming like a tormented slide show straight out his insecure nightmares. 

She told him multiple times that she didn’t date players. She told him on the mound last season, after their almost-something outside Boardner’s, that nothing would change as long as they are teammates. Did she not care enough to give them a chance? Did things change because she’s in the majors now, not the minors? Why couldn’t he be the exception?

It’s probably telling that he’s thinking all of this while sitting beside his ex-wife, current girlfriend, and feels very little guilt, only misplaced anger and regret. He feels like Ginny lied to him somehow. It’s not like he deserves any information from her, they are’t anything to each other besides friends and teammates. 

And she made sure of that, a small voice in his head reminds him.

“Like Ev said, it was a long time ago,” Blip finally chimes in and Mike deflates a little at the understanding, if vaguely pitying, look on his friends face.

There are a few moments of tense silence where Mike doesn’t know what to say and everyone sits in the discomfort before Rachel pipes up with something about her job.

Rachel continues to throw him suspicious and slightly hurt looks throughout the supper, he’s pretty much silent for the rest of the meal, stewing in what he’s learned and how he’s going to deal with it. 

She’s not with Noah anymore, but she still has her rule. Her rule which is much less stringent than Mike previously thought. He knows that he’s too much a coward to do anything now, that he cares too much about Ginny to force her into making a decision before she’s ready, that he’s with Rachel and maybe owes it to her and to himself to give them a chance. 

It all seems up in the air and indistinct, like he’s watching reruns of conversations he’s had and decisions he’s made, or failed to make. 

He wonders if he’ll be able to stop himself from asking Ginny about it directly. 

He doubts it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! <3


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: "I'm fine"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For my wonderful pocket friend, Sandra. <3

"I'm fine."

"You don’t look fine.”

It’s after a game, she’s sitting in the gym perched on the end of one of the treadmills. She hadn’t played well. In fact, it may have been one of her worst games since she got called up, since her first in the majors. She’d been able to hold back the tears but she’s sure her eyes are still red and shiny, and if her features convey how drained she feels, she most definitely does not look fine.

Ginny doesn’t know how to talk to him about this. She’d had a pregnancy scare during her second season as the first female major league player in the world; and her captain and catcher would have been the father. 

It’s put things in perspective, made the tentative physical relationship her and Mike had struck up blindingly, unavoidably real. They hadn’t used labels, Ginny thought it was easier, but right now, she’s regretting the lack of clarity.

“What happened out there, Baker?” Mike doesn’t sit down, just stays a relative distance from her, arms crossed and worried. 

“Just a bad game,” she brings her knees up to her chest and tries to comfort herself, wrapping her arms around her legs and slowing her breathing.

“There are bad games, Baker, and then there’s whatever that was,” he gestures idly in the direction of the field.

She knows she played a horrible game, she also knows she wont be talking to Mike about this anywhere near Petco, so rather than argue with him, or come up with specious excuses, she just lifts herself off the treadmill and turns towards him.

“I’ll get ‘em next time,” she goes to pat him on the shoulder, a friendly teammate gesture, but Mike grabs her hand and keeps her close. 

His brow furrows and he drops his hand when she flinches at his touch. Mike is looking more and more concerned and its making the calm she just fought for evaporate. He’s going to push the issue, she just knows it.

“Ginny,” she looks away because the honest sincerity shining through his eyes is doing nothing to make her feel better. He clears his throat and shifts back and forth, “C’mon, rookie, talk to me.”

“Nothing to talk about,” she keeps her face deliberately blank and watches as he squints at her incredulously. 

“Well we both know that’s not true, but I guess I’ll drop it for now,” he looks frustrated and she can’t blame him, “do you want to hang out tonight? Get your mind off whatever it is that’s not bothering you?” 

He smiles at her, a little sarcastic but warm and inviting.

Considering he is a major part of what’s bothering her, she has no interest. She’s not sure how to say that though, and Mike might realize he’s part of the reason she’s been so off. She wanted to escape this conversation five minutes ago and its gotten to a point where her skin is getting itchy with how uncomfortable she is. 

“I’ve got plans with Evelyn, some other time,” she smiles quickly and starts to make her way out of the gym.

“Considering Blip just told me him and Ev are having a date night, I sort of doubt that,” she stops at the doorway and turns to face him.

He looks confused now, maybe a little weary. She’s never lied to him before.

“Why did you just lie to me? What is going on?” 

She’s never liked to lie, and getting caught in one is a horrible feeling. Instantly, everything bubbles to the surface and she can’t hold it in any longer, not that she was doing a great job of it before.

“I thought I was pregnant,” her eyes run the length of the gym slowly before she finally looks at him, her stomaching tightening as she braces herself for his reaction.

Mike looks like someone hit him over head, he’s gone stock still and he blinks a few times, mouth hanging partly open as she sees him come to terms with what she just said. His gaze flicks to her stomach quickly before returning to her face. He slowly walks over to her and Ginny curls into herself a little, still braced.

He slowly takes her hand again, this time she lets him. He’s shaking just a little. 

“Are you okay?” Is what he finally says, voice low and tender. 

She is okay. She’s definitely okay with not being pregnant, she had a minor panic attack when she thought she was, but she handled it well. It all happened so quickly, the span of the morning right before the game, and it just shook her a little, put things in perspective and made her really assess her choices.

The fact that her job comes with a different kind of pressure and expectation than others just enhanced her anxieties, now that the game is over and they have two days off until their next, she’s feeling better. The main area of concern right now is the man holding her hand.

She nods, keeping eye contact.

“I am, I’m okay now. I promise,” her voice is steady and sincere. 

“So, you aren’t…” He looks down at her stomach again, swallowing loudly, “you’re sure?” She’s both heartbroken and strangely comforted by the devastation on his face. Not that she was expecting him to be unfeeling, but its nice to know its affecting him as much as its affecting her. Makes her feel less alone, less adrift.

“Very sure,” she nods decisively. 

“Do you want to talk about it? It doesn’t have to be now. I’m here, you know that, right?” His voice has maintained the low, tender tone. There is a desperation in how his hands are holding her that makes her clutch him back.

“I know,” and she does know, he’s never given her a reason to doubt him and they’ve always existed on a separate wave length than everyone else; there for each in a permanent, grounding way she hadn’t expected or planned for.

He looks at their hands for a few seconds before he quickly realizes where they are, squeezes once and steps back, looking like he regrets it as soon as he lets go.

“So do you want to hang out tonight? We don’t need to talk more about it, we don’t even have to talk at all. But I understand if you want to be alone,” Mike is being so respectful and kind, she thinks she can taste the gratitude welling up inside her; the feeling loges in her throat and makes her next words come out a little strangled.

“Your place?”

He keeps his face as neutral as he can, but his entire body sags with relief. She understands the feeling. Why she didn’t just tell him immediately, she’s doesn’t know anymore. A small voice in the back of her mind whispers “next time you will” and she waits for the fear accompanied with such a loaded thought, but it never comes.

They walk out together. As it should be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comment if you'd like, it's always appreciated!


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Hello there! I love your Bawson stories! Just wondering if you're still doing prompts? If you are, could you maybe write one where Ginny and Mike are having sex while she's pregnant, he feels the baby kicks during, and proceeds to freak out a bit? Meanwhile Ginny's slightly annoyed, but can't stop cracking up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some cute pregnant!bawson!

“Did you feel that?”

She’s breathing heavily, feeling quite a lot of different things at the moment. Or at least she was before Mike decided to stop the truly sinful movement of his hips behind her. She’s close, so very close; legs tingling, white hot pleasure emanating from the center of her body, fingers aching from gripping the bed sheets so tightly.

And he just stopped.

“Feel wha’?“ She’s a little out of her mind and still confused why he’s stopped moving. That’s not what she wants. It’s the opposite of what she wants. In fact, she’d like more movement, harder even, faster if he’s so inclined.

He’s wrapped around her, they are both on their sides, one of his arms is underneath her and wrapped around her chest, a hand cupping one of her sensitive breasts while the other is resting on her very rounded belly, protective and warm. 

“The bug kicked! It kicked, you had to feel that! It’s inside of you!”

She’s still a little slow on the uptake. 

“If I can feel it you can have to be able feel it, Ginny!”

How does she say, “all I want to feel right now is you dick back inside me” in a nice and non-aggressive way?

“Wait, did the bug kick because we were having sex? Is that weird? Should it be doing that?”

The growing freneticism in his voice makes her start to smile just a little bit. He’s been hilariously, and at times unbearably, involved in the pregnancy. The moment he found out he went on Amazon and bought about a dozen baby books, immediately looked into local lamaze classes, and researched the pros and cons of a hospital birth verses using a midwife. 

He runs his hand all around her belly, feeling for more errant kicks.

“I read something about this...,”

She tries hard not to roll her eyes, the amount of times he’s started a conversation with those exact words has become legitimately ridiculous. 

Ginny starts to laugh, his focus completely shifted from fucking her to apparently educating her on the biochemical reactions of her body in relation to the smaller body she’s growing inside her.

“...so, basically its the rush of endorphins and, are you laughing at me, Baker?”

She’s still curled on her side; Ginny burrows her face into the pillow and lets out a louder cackle at his affronted tone. She heaves herself onto her back and again onto her side so she can look at him, trying to minimize the giggles still escaping her. 

Mike has a stupidly joyful look on his face, it's enchanting as hell and Ginny smiles at him indulgently.

“You are too cute, you know that?” She scratches at his beard and he leans into her touch immediately, both his hands finding her belly again.

There is a quiet moment between them for a few seconds, then all of a sudden...

“You had to feel that one!” Mike’s eyes are wide and astounded, shinning with happiness.

“Yeah, old man, that one I felt.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Comment if you'd like, it's always appreciated!


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s angst, but then some happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “You say the nastiest things when you’re angry, so yes, I’m walking away from you now.”
> 
> Have some angst! Enjoy!

“You say the nastiest things when you’re angry, so yes, I’m walking away from you now.”

She turns and leaves the room before the lump in his throat allows him to get any more words out.

Maybe it’s for the better.

Mike fights the urge to grab her because it would be wrong, excessive, and might hurt her oh so recently heeled arm. The small warning signs that started dinging the minute they went down this road have begun to blare painfully in his temples, running down his neck and making his hands tingle. 

He knew the second he mentioned Noah it wasn’t going to end well. He hates that they are still friends; his ridiculous, childish jealousy rearing its ugly and unwanted head at the worst times.

So he was terrified of losing something important to him and he self-sabotaged. 

What else is new?

The tingling in his hands doesn’t go away; he curls his fingers into fists to try to calm himself down but he can hear his heartbeat in his ears, loud and deafening like the steady drumbeat of a song he can’t turn down. 

The stream of cruel and immature accusations and insults he’d thrown at Ginny in a moment of embarrassing self-doubt runs through his mind making him cringe. He feels like he can’t breathe. He really, really hopes he did not just mess up the most important relationship in his life.

He holds his breath for a few seconds before letting the air out slowly.

_No._

He refuses to let anything, even his own insecurities, allow Ginny to walk out of his life.

He expects to have to start running after her, looking for which way she left Petco, if she left, to where. He’s already pulling out his phone to try and call her when he sees her standing only a few feet outside the PT room, half leaning against the wall, hands on her knees and keeled over. 

Mike takes a moment to take her in before approaching; he can’t tell if he’s the one breathing loudly or her, then he sees how rapidly her chest is moving and the shine of sweat on her forehead. 

She’s having a panic attack. 

He rushes over to Ginny, not touching her yet as she starts to breathe faster. His focus narrows to her, making sure she starts to breathe normally. He’s done this before; they’ve done this before. 

Ginny looks at him when he crouches down in front of her, he lays a slow, calm hand over her heart and instructs her to follow his breathing. Mike both feels and sees her begin to regain control of herself; her chest moves up and down slowly, fully; he hesitates only a few seconds before cupping her cheek.

“You good?” He asks in a low voice.

She just nods; eyes wary but grateful. 

The clubhouse has been empty for at least an hour, they stayed behind to work on her fastball; both incredibly dedicated to her full recovery, Mike helping in a way that Ginny had either not expected or hadn’t dared hope for.

Something clicks in her mind: she remembers the reason for the panic attack, why she’s in the hallway, why he’s looking at her like he’s afraid he might lose her. Ginny’s eyes harden ever so slightly and her straightens, body shifting into a defensive posture as she takes a couple steps back from him. 

She doesn’t leave though. He considers it as good a sign as any.

He rises gingerly, staying where he is and letting her have space.

Mike is worried because they’ve had this fight before, a couple times now.

“You realize this isn’t the first time we’ve fought about this right?” Ginny sounds resigned and maybe a little scared which only amplifies the terror he’s trying desperately to assuage. But, he almost smiles; even when they are fighting, they are still so in sync.

“I know,” he says quietly.

“Do you want to keep having this fight, or can this be the last time? I’m getting really tired of needing to coddle your jealousy. It’s one of the only things you don’t wear well,” she sounds firm, decided. 

He allows a small, tentative amount of hope to run through him. 

“I don’t want to have this fight, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything I said. I swear I do trust you when you say that you want to be with me and no one else,” he takes one step closer and he feels himself start to settle when she doesn’t move away.

“Then why did we just fight about it again, Mike?” She shrugs her shoulders, her head shaking as she looks at him uncomprehendingly, lost as to how he can be so sure yet still so doubtful.

Nothing comes out for a few beats, he's unsure how to answer her. 

“Why do you think I want to be with anyone else? Do you really think you’re that unlovable?” 

Their gazes meet and Mike feels his eyes tear up against his will, he blinks them back but she sees, because of course she does, and her face crumples immediately. Before he can take a breath Ginny’s arms are around him, squeezing tightly, assuring in a way he’s scared to crave.

He pulls her tighter, grateful to have her within reach again.

“I love you. I love you. I love you,” she says it over and over into his shoulder and he almost sags with relief, gratitude, love. 

He doesn’t think she should be comforting him right now, he said awful things and yet he’s the one needing to be reassured. He pulls away to look at her. 

“I love you, too. I will work on this, for myself, for you. I didn’t mean anything I said. Not a damn word,” he says it fiercely, with as much conviction as he can muster despite the weight on his chest that hasn’t fully dissipated. He thinks it just needs time and to hold her in his arms as long as possible. 

They will need to talk more, he will need to share more, and he’s okay with it for the first time in a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Comment if you'd like, it's always appreciated.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt from tumblr: “It’s a hobby of mine to prove you wrong.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the lovely Sandra and Jenn, who needed some fic. <3
> 
> Some married bawson fluff!
> 
> Enjoy!

“They definitely said we should be there at 7:00, not 7:30, and that over priced restaurant won’t seat Blip and Evelyn until we get there,” she remained firm on this, she knew Ev had said 7 o’clock sharp.

Ginny turned in the passenger’s seat to take in Mike’s face, pinched with annoyance. She’d been ready at 6:30 and it turned out he’d decided a late afternoon cat nap was a good idea and she found him asleep on the lounge chair by the pool after searching all over the house for him. How, in a structure that was 70% glass, she had such trouble finding him, she will never know.

She’s also not sure why they are still even living there, after almost a year of marriage and multiple discussions of finding their own place Mike and Ginny just hadn’t gotten around to it yet. Turns out neither of them were at all interested in real estate. Besides, they did have a lot of good, _good_ memories in Mike’s former bachelor pad.

Plus, Ginny enjoyed how much natural light there was, it made her feel free and warm at all times; feelings her husband normally inspired in her as well.

Although currently, she felt more like smacking him just a little.

Ginny hated being late, and he had made them late.

“And I’m telling _you_ , rookie, Blip told _me_ 7:30,” he accelerated to make a yellow light and she held on tight to the door and took a deep breath to calm herself down.

He looked over and saw her tense shoulders and how she was clutching the car and slowed down a touch. One of the many reasons she hated being late meant was that it meant they had to rush. She knew Mike wasn’t a reckless driver by any stretch but she couldn’t help the thread of anxiety that weaved its way up from her stomach to her throat.

She knew he was about to reach over and comfort her, seeing how his eyebrows pulled together with worry, but she wasn’t ready for that yet.

“Okay, so between _Evelyn_ and _Blip_ ,” she paused dramatically to let it sink in, “ _who_ do you think we should trust to know what time we had the reservation for?”

Ginny waited while he took a deep breath and pursed his lips, coming to terms with how right she was. She only just stopped herself from making a high pitched inquiring noise when he elected not to answer.

She eyed the clock on the dashboard and ground her teeth as the numbers ticked to 7:24.

“All I’m saying is that if the reservation had been for 7:30, we’d be on time,” he lifted a hand to gesture to the clock before rubbing at his beard and sighing loudly.

She was slightly gobsmacked at his total lack of logic.

“But it wasn't, Mike. It was for 7, not 7:30. So, we’re still late!” She heard the small amount of hysteria creep into her voice and rolled down the window to get some fresh air.

When Ginny glanced over at him, he was smirking slightly behind his beard, an amused expression colouring his features.

That made her teeth grind more. What could be funny right now?

“We’re pretty cute, aren’t we?” He looked over at her quickly, flashing a grin, before putting on his turn signal and turning down the street where they would be dining for the evening.

“Cute?” She asked.

“Yeah, look at us! Bickering in the car about being late to supper with our other couple friends. We’re married,” he said it with delight, with excitement, with everything she wasn’t feeling at the moment.

“I don’t want to alarm you, old man, but we’ve been married for a while now. Coming up on the first anniversary actually, if your memory isn’t totally gone,” she could see the restaurant and was grateful for the valet parking so they wouldn’t need to waste more time looking for a spot.

Mike handed the keys to the man working who referred to them Mr. and Mrs. Lawson as they got out of the car.

“Did you hear that? Mrs. Lawson! That’s you!” The joyous tone hadn’t left his voice, if anything he sounded happier.

She raised her eyebrows at him, trying very hard not to let the fondness bubbling up inside her spill over and show on her face.

_Fuck, he’s cute._

Ginny shook her head at him and couldn’t help but smile. He’d been doing this since they had tied the knot: randomly reminding her they were married, shooting her an excited grin if someone called her Mrs. Lawson, sending her pictures of their wedding day with a stupid amount of heart eye emojis, calling her his wife, and him her husband, as often as possible.

Just last week while she was making a smoothie he’d walked into the kitchen and pointed to the ring he’d placed on her finger and asked, “what’s that?” She’d told him bemusedly that it was her wedding ring and he’d just said, “damn right,” before grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and slapping her ass as he left.

“I just think it’s cute, you like to prove me wrong and I love not being right if it means seeing that adorable little triumphant look on your face.”

“Actually, it’s a hobby of mine to prove you wrong,” she looked up at him.

He snapped his fingers and pointed to her face, “That one! That look right there, its priceless, rookie.”

They made their way to the maître’d, Ginny went to her tip toes to try and find their friends, who were no doubt impatiently waiting for her and her husband.

“Mr. and Mrs. Lawson, party of four,” Mike proclaimed beside her.

Ginny spotted Blip and Evelyn waiting for them at the bar and waved to them. They got ushered to their table and given menus.

“What took you guys so long?” Evelyn asked as she started to browse the options in front of her.

“We’re married,” Mike answered proudly, like it was an adequate answer to the question, a big grin once again taking over his face.

Evelyn and Blip shared a look before mutually deciding not to inquire further. Mike reached over and took her hand, lifting it so he could kiss her ring before squeezing her fingers once and focusing back on choosing an appetizer.

As far as hobbies go, she’s pretty happy with hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Comment if you would like, it is always appreciated!


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sentence prompt: “I’m tired of being your secret.” 
> 
> For Jenn, cause she asked and so she shall receive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy! 
> 
> Mike is in love and a sap...turns out so is Ginny.

“I’m tired of being your secret.”

She’s on her way out the door when his voice stops her. They’d been gradually building to a fight both bigger and more cruel than anywhere near where they’ve been before and she wanted to leave before they both went past the point of no return.

Ginny takes a deep breath to center herself and silently ask why he didn’t just say that when they first went down this road. Instead, he’d nitpicked at her all day long, been short and standoff-ish since he’d laid his eyes on her when she’d walked into Petco.

In fact, now that she’s reflecting on it, she’s realizing the fact that she had walked in without him may have been the catalyst to all of this. Going back further, she remembers when they had woken up together at his place and she’d insisted on getting a car service to the field so they didn’t arrive together. She can see so clearly the shadow that had passed over his face when she’d kissed him goodbye.

Her brows furrow as she takes a moment to think over their recent interactions. Things become startlingly clear the more Ginny thinks about it and she kicks herself for not seeing it sooner.

The memories of moments where his displeasure and discomfort were obvious if she’d only just paid attention wash over her like tidal wave; she’s inundated with images of their interactions.

Mike sighing when she won’t hold hands with him in public, needing to leave and arrive separately rather than together, Ginny only letting herself go completely when they are totally alone, not eating out in public for fear of the paparazzi catching something they shouldn’t, spending their nights apart at away games.

Just last week when they were in Tampa she’d wished him goodnight along with the rest of the team hanging out together in the hotel bar, only to return to her hotel room alone. The disappointment was clear all over his face; Ginny had felt his eyes tracking her as she left.

She figured he was just a little bummed they couldn’t snuggle like they normally do; she will be the first to admit she sleeps better when he’s there. Her nights are almost certainly improved, if not by his presence alone but, by all the wonderful, exquisite, and _obscene_ things his body, mouth, and hands can do to and for her.

But right now, as she turns to look at him, he’s standing across the room from her looking more embarrassed than anything, like he’d confessed something he hadn’t meant to share with her. His hands are clenching and unclenching at his sides as if he were able to grab the words out of the air and make them disappear.

“My secret?” She asks in a hesitant voice.

He ducks his head, looking sheepish and maybe regretful. Ginny watches him battle with himself before he appears to become steady with determination. Mike takes a few steps closer to her, speaking in a low and tortured voice. It makes her stomach tighten, knowing he was in pain and she didn’t realize.

“It’s just hard sometimes, rookie. I love you and I want to be with you openly. I want to hold your hand, and kiss you when I feel like it, come to work together and leave together. I hate this forced distance between us, its the last thing I want,” his voice cracks when he reaches the end of his sentence and her hands tingle at his admission.

“No, Mike, I don’t want it either…,” Ginny isn’t sure if he hears her because he looks like he’s breaking just a little bit.

“I want to love you as loudly as I can, Baker. It feels like you’re pulling away, like you don’t actually want to be with me,” he lets out a frustrated huff, “but I also know how much harder its going to be for you if we go public so I don’t want to pressure you, I want you to be happy. I just wish I could be a bigger part of making you happy.”

Mike’s cheeks have gone ruddy and his eyes are slightly glassy. Ginny is having some trouble breathing normally.

“Maybe I’m just being selfish and impatient, I-just-jesus, rookie!” He runs nervous hands through his hair and down his beard.

The lack of confidence he’s displaying, how tentative and self-conscious he sounds, is not something Ginny is used to, and she doesn’t like it at all. She needs him to be confident, especially confident in her commitment to him.

She walks over and stands close to him, not touching him yet.

“Listen up, Captain,” he raises his head, and his eyebrows are quick follow – clearly he wasn’t expecting _that_ from her, “I love you, and I want to hold your hand in public, and have your arm over my shoulder, and I want to kiss you in the dugout after you get a home run more than I want almost _anything_.”

Mike’s eyes soften and she watches as his chest expands with a fortifying breath; he takes her hand in his, holding on tightly.

“Yeah?” He asks softly, a tentative smile blooming behind his beard.

“Sorry I made you doubt it, old man. As soon as the season is over, we’ll go public. We only have to stick it out five more weeks and we’re home free,” they are at Petco but she throws caution to the wind and cups his fuzzy cheek, tugging his beard a little to make him do that thing where he tilts his head and looks at her like she’s the best thing he’s ever seen.

The butterflies she’s come to expect from being on the receiving end of that look do not disappoint and the tight feeling of worry in her stomach dissipates in favour of the happy fluttering of wings.

“You think you can last that long?” She asks teasingly.

“You of all people, rookie,” a dangerous look crosses his face, “should know not to question my stamina.”

She takes a look around her before leaning up and planting a quick but promising kiss on his lips; she licks into his mouth and smirks at the barely held back whimper that escapes him.

Five weeks and one day later, the story breaks that Mike Lawson and Ginny Baker are dating.

Paparazzi catch them eating out together. If them stealing food off each others plates and cuddling hadn’t sealed the deal, the shot of them lip locked and blissful dispels any doubts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Comment if you'd like, it is always appreciated!


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fic of bed sharing and having ~things~ happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the beautiful and lovely Chelle. <3
> 
> Enjoy!

She’s curled up in bed, refreshing herself on the stats of some of the Tampa Bay Ray’s she’s going to be playing tomorrow when a knock comes at her door follow by a muffled yell of her name.

Ginny would know that voice anywhere and she gets up quickly, not thinking of the tank top and boy shorts she’s wearing, to go open the door. It’s late enough and she doesn’t want noise complaints from her neighbours.

The team had gone out for a drink and she’d begged off, not feeling like being around the people or the noise that inevitably came with the clubs her teammates would drag her to.

“I know you’re in there, Baker. Prob’ly going over hitters like the try-hard you are,” his speech is slurred a little and she braces herself as he knocks three more times on her door.

The sight that greets her is more than enough to make her need to hold back a laugh.

Her captain is swaying dangerously despite a hand on her door frame, a Hawaiian leis is inexplicably around his neck, and he’s most definitely missing a shoe. 

Mike sees her standing in front of him and his face brightens to truly animated levels, cheeks pink from the copious amounts of alcohol he’s ingested, eyes bright and shining as he takes her in.

“There she is! Ginny Baker in the flesh!”

Ginny just crosses her arms and leans on the opposite side of the frame, freely enjoying the state of a drunk Mike Lawson. She’s only seen him like this once before and he wasn’t anywhere near as intoxicated as he currently seemed to be.

“Having a good night there, Lawson?” She probes, trying to keep from giggling as he guffaws dramatically before gesturing wildly at her.

“Woulda been better with you there, that’s for sure,” he confesses guilelessly. 

She raises her eyebrows at him and takes a second not to think about how close they’ve come to crossing a line. While seeing him drunk is amusing, his loose tongue is much too dangerous for her to be around.

_Don’t think about his tongue. Don’t think about his tongue._

But it’s too late, she can feel the phantom press of his lips against hers and how his tongue would trace a path from her mouth to her neck and lower. She’s reminded that she’s not wearing a bra when she feels her nipples tighten and become erect; the fabric covering her chest hiding nothing.

Mike either notices and somehow still has the cognitive function not to comment, or is simply too drunk to realize.

“I need to stay with you, rookie, Dusty kicked me out cause he has a girl with him,” he doesn’t wait for her to invite him in, he just half-walks-half-stumbles his way into her room and flops down face first on the bed unceremoniously. 

There is a couch he could sleep on but trying to move him seems ridiculous and asking for trouble, not to mention how hard it would be on his back, so she just sighs and coaxes him higher up the bed and under the blankets. She makes him drink a large glass of water, and at least take off his shoes, well, shoe.

As soon as she hears the faint snores, if she’s honest she was expecting him to sound like a freight train, she quickly finishes going over the hitters and turns off the light to snuggle down into the sheets.

Once again, she chooses not to think about the fact that Mike, _Mike_ , is in her bed, sleeping and cozy not a foot from her. She smiles faintly as she takes in his relaxed features and messy hair.

Ginny is not sure if this will ever happen again so she lets herself bask a little bit. Not too much though, she knows better. 

Morning comes to her in fragments, then all at once. During the night, she half remembers hearing him get up then come back; Ginny think she recalls him patting her thigh and gruffly telling her to “scooch” before he climbed back in, making the bed warmer and smell like scotch and his aftershave.

She’s dreaming that she’s pitched a no-hitter and Mike is hugging her on the mound, arms wrapped around her tightly, arms that feel like they don’t want to let go. Then, she’s awake and she feels Mike’s arms around her for real. 

Mike is warm, broad, muscled, smells human and real and she feels anchored. Anchored in the best way, like she’s been drifting and listless and finally found a safe shore.

She’s on her side, Mike spooning her from behind and, because she can’t help herself, she gently wiggles her way further into his embrace. He just sighs into her hair and holds on tighter; the surge of joy that runs through her would make her dizzy if she wasn’t laying down.

Without meaning to, or maybe unconsciously meaning to, she presses her ass into him where she can feel him hard and long against her. His hand, which had been bound around her stomach moves up and under her shirt until he’s cupping her breast. 

She freezes for a tiny second then relaxes into him more. She thought he was asleep.

“What are ya doing there, Lawson?” She asks, voice sleep rough.

“Sleeping, what are you doing, Baker?” He responds, voice equally as hoarse as her.

“Your hand doesn’t feel very asleep, old man,” she counters.

“Well, neither does your ass, rookie, but you don’t hear me complaining.”

She bites her lip and half hides her face in the pillow. 

She feels his thumb every so lightly brush over her nipple, like a tease, like a warning, like a hello, and she can’t help the full body shiver that runs through her. Ginny feels him shuffle closer and breath her in, warm air from his mouth hitting the back of her neck and shoulders, heightening what she’s feeling and making her want to turn in his arms and devour him whole.

“Christ, rookie...I knew you would feel good, but I didn’t think you’d feel _this_ good,” he mumbles half into her hair, half into the pillow.

That does it.

She extricates herself from his arms, hearing a soft noise of protest from him before she turns around -- she wants to look at him. She settles and takes him in, watching as he does the same.

“Don’t look at me like that, Baker, or I’m going to kiss you, and I guarantee my breath is horrible right now,” she’s more than a little taken aback by his frankness. For someone who’s avoided even referencing what else they may be to each other besides teammates, he’s being awfully forthcoming about what he wants.

“Mike,” she whispers because she can’t think of anything too say. There’s too much she needs to express and Ginny has no idea where to even begin. 

“Will you come to my place when we get back to San Diego? I think we should talk, when I’m less hungover and you have more clothes on,” he smirks just a little bit and she shakes her head at him fondly, rolling her eyes.

“Yeah, I think that’s a good idea...,” she trails off, not sure how to ask what she wants to ask.

“Ginny?”

The use of her first name has her meeting his gaze, his open and honest eyes completely transfixed on her.

“What changed, Mike? I thought...,” she trails off again, not even sure what she thought.

He smiles at her and her stomach swoops.

“I woke up with you in my arms, Baker,” he cups her cheek gently, “there’s no going back after that.”

Ginny’s breath catches and she smiles at him unsteadily -- a rush of _something_ , something she’s not ready to name quite yet, flows through her and she feels lighter than she’s felt in a long time.

Unsure of whether or not her voice will come out even, Ginny just nods at him and snuggles back into his arms. The hand that was cupping her check slides around her neck and runs down her back as she becomes encased in his warmth.

She can’t wait to get back to San Diego. They have a lot to talk about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Comment if you'd like, it is always appreciated. <3


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: "oh sorry were you sleeping?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be prepared to see Ginny’s petty side. Also more of drunk/hungover Mike, cause why not?
> 
> (Also, I apparently have a thing with jealous/idiotic Mike doing dumb stuff, then Ginny getting angry – I love angst, what can I say?)

Mike wakes up in the worst way possible.

Normally, he will awaken slowly and calmly holding Ginny in his arms. He can nuzzle into her and briefly forget about what he needs to do that day; maybe slide an arm down between her legs and start the day right.

Instead, he was sleeping blissfully in dream land when Uptown Funk started playing at a truly ear splitting level right next to his face. His eyes pop open and he sits up quickly like a jolt.

Immediately, his temples begin to pound out a rhythm that is both worse than the song and exacerbated by the it; he can’t think, he can’t do anything besides close his eyes and put his hands over his face, hoping his dream turned into a nightmare.

Blessedly, the music stops.

“Oh sorry, were you sleeping?”

Her voice rings out innocent and deceiving, the question is very obviously rhetorical because she is holding the portable speakers that are usually for the pool area in her hands. Not to mention the tight smile on her lips.

“Jesus, what gives, rookie?” He rubs his hands over his face and tries to orient himself, blink away the spots in front of his eyes and swallow away the horrible taste in his mouth. 

“Do you remember anything from last night?”

Mike isn’t sure if this one is meant to be rhetorical, but in any case his brain is working at a slug. He’s having trouble thinking of anything besides advil and water.

He groans and flops down to the pillow, pulling the blanket over his face, hoping whatever is wrong will just go away if Ginny can’t see him. He’s fooling himself and he knows it, but he’s still going to give it his best college try.

“I’m going to take that as a no,” Ginny says, and the next thing he knows she’s ripping the blanket off of him and throwing it on the floor next to the bed. He whimpers a little, fully believing that he’s done nothing at all to deserve this, he just wants silence and darkness, more sleep, then food, then he’ll see about being a functional human being. 

“Then please, allow me to remind you,” he squints and sees she has the remote for the TV in her hand. She turns, presses a button and a news story starts playing.

He’s cognizant enough to know he should definitely pay attention, hopefully this will illuminate why his usually sweet and loving girlfriend has transformed into an expert in torture.

Mike’s eyes focus on the TV, its blurry for a few seconds before it comes into focus and he blinks a few times again to orient himself.

_What you’re watching here, folks, is San Diego Padres catcher Mike Lawson seemingly intoxicated, being forcefully removed from a night club after an altercation with another club go-er._

The voice-over explains this as he watches an unsteady camera video of himself, looking very drunk and quite belligerent, being dragged out of the club. Salvi on one side of him and Dusty on the other. Well, no wonder she’s pissed, he made a complete ass of himself.

_But that’s not all folks._

Uh oh.

_Indeed, the reason behind the altercation is what has everyone talking about the veteran catcher. According to multiple sources inside the club, Mike Lawson became enraged when another patron approached Ginny Baker. Sources say Lawson repeatedly yelled for the man to “leave his girlfriend alone”._

He goes stock still at the reporter’s account, the night rushing back to him like a bad flashback. Mike remembers the drunk idiot who wouldn’t stop leering at Ginny, yelling at her about how she was too beautiful to be playing baseball and that he could take care of her. He sees Ginny’s pinched face, hears her asking him to ignore him, feels her hand on his arm trying to pull him back when he started walking towards him.

Mike remembers only wanting to talk the guy down, despite his own drunk state, he knew not to get physical with the guy. Unfortunately, the asshole took Mike approaching him as a threat and tried to punch him. Mike remembers briefly thinking he thought his drunk bar brawl days were long over before he ended up putting the dude in a head lock; he recalls being dragged away and forced out of club. Everything after that gets hazy and even more embarrassing.

He groans and hangs his head, shame insulating every pore.

They’d agreed to keep it low profile until he retired in a few months for the sake of everyone. This is not good.

_Representatives from both Ginny Baker and Mike Lawson have been contacted for a comment but are remaining cagey and declining to comment. It will certainly be an interesting game at Petco on Monday, that’s no doubt about that._

Ginny lifts the remote and turns the TV off, spins slowly to face him, her face hard and expectant.

He’s got nothing.

There is no explanation for his actions besides blind idiocy and lack of forethought. Mike cannot believe he’s fucked up this bad. Despite his pounding headache, he knows this will eventually blow over and thing will be okay, but he didn’t want to have the last stretch of his career go like this, he didn’t want to make Ginny’s life impossible, or distract the team from playing the best season they could. 

“You remember now?” She prompts again, arching an eyebrow and tilting her head to the side.

When he doesn’t answer, she barrels on.

“I turned my phone off, yours too. They’ve been buzzing constantly since the first news cycle of the story. Everyone wants to know if its true, Amelia is probably going to be breaking down the door soon, and I don’t even want to know what colour Oscar’s face is turning,” she says all this in one breath, looking at him like she’s not expecting anything from him besides for him to sit there and be ranted at.

He gets it.

In all honesty, he wants to rant at himself, go back in time and tell himself to listen to Ginny when she asked him to leave it alone. He knew better, he knows better, but the mix of Ginny’s clear discomfort, the alcohol, and the asshole’s degrading comments just made something snap.

He’ll maintain he only got into it with the guy out of self-defense, but he did put himself in that position, so he knows it doesn’t mean much. Intentions don’t matter in situations like this, actions do, and he acted like a complete fucking idiot.

“I’m so sorry, Ginny, I–,” There’s nothing at all he can say that will make it better, he wants to apologize more, explain why he did what he did, explain that he wont do it again, not that it will carry much weight now. 

Mike thinks Ginny is less angry and more scared judging by her posture and how her hands are shaking ever so slightly. Certainly, there is anger there but he reads fear more than anything.

“We are going to get through this, I refuse to let my idiocy effect your career, okay?” The pain in his head, while still pounding, has lessened some and he ignores his thirst for the time being; there are more pressings things to deal with, namely getting that look off of Ginny’s face.

Her posture doesn’t become any less stiff, if anything she curls more fully into herself and looks away from him.

That wont do.

“Hey, Baker, look at me,” he waits patiently until her eyes meet his, “this will blow over. You have every right to be worried, and pissed at me, but I swear things will be okay. I can say I was just really drunk and it was a big mistake if you want, or I can tell the whole world how much I love you. However you want to deal with this, that is what we will do,” Mike watches as she slowly unfurls, dropping her arms to her sides and hanging her head.

“You can play Uptown Funk directly into my ear again, if you want?” Thankfully, his meager attempt at lightening the mood works and Ginny snorts at him.

“No, I think you’ve had enough,” she smiles at him a little, its not full or bright, but its there and he takes it as a good sign.

She comes and sits by him on the bed, sniffing once before turning and burring her head into the nook between his shoulder and neck that was almost certainly made for her.

His gut tightens as she cries silently into him. Mike never, _ever_ , wants to hurt her and he’s not going to forgive himself easily for this. He is also never going to drink tequila again.

“We’re going to be okay, right?” She asks, her voice muffled slightly from where she’s still nuzzled into him.

“Of course we’re gonna be okay, rook,” he wraps both arms around her as best he can, pulling her close, “that was never a question.”

She digs her fingers into his skin and holds on tight, letting out a tremulous breath. He heaves himself over the side of the bed to grab the blanket and wraps them up.

“Mike…,” she starts, trailing off. 

He knows she’ll want to try and start to deal with the mess he made, but he has other ideas.

“C’mon, everyone who wants a comment can deal for a while, they don’t have any right to our business anyway. Let’s sleep, the world can wait.”

They snuggle into the blankets, but then Ginny sits up and reaches over to the bedside table and passes him a glass of water. He looks at it somewhat surprised before downing the whole thing.

“I knew you’d be thirsty. I was mad, but I wasn’t that mad,” she smiles at him, taking back the glass once its empty and placing it back on the table.

They are going to be just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Comment if you'd like, its always appreciated! <3


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dialogue prompt: “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super angsty.
> 
> There will be a part two. Promise.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”

She tries, she really really does, to say it to his face. Ginny kicks herself for her cowardice, but in her defense just getting the words out had taken almost everything in her.

Ginny is tired. Tired of the heated exchanges, the coded interactions, the very real and visceral pain she felt seeing Mike and Rachel together until they finally let their dwindling romance die. Personally she thought their relationship was dead a long time ago, they only just recently called time of death.

“Baker…,” he says her name like he’s not sure what else to say, before letting out a small laugh.

That was the last reaction she wanted from him.

“Listen, I understand the whole captain/rookie dynamic is an intense one, but I think you’re jumping the gun a little here, rook,” Mike isn’t looking at her either, completely absorbed in memorizing the pattern on his cleats.

The fear, the anxiety, the doubt, all disappear within her, the swirling emotions melting away like ice in the sun, as rage, pure and diluted, spreads through her.

That coward.

Ginny scoffs loudly and tries to stop her voice from shaking. Mike finally looks at her, quickly, furtively, like he’s scared of what he’ll find, before looking back down to his feet.

“Really, Mike? You’re gonna play it like that?” She figured as soon as either of them finally gathered up enough courage to admit what they both knew to be true, it would be like floodgates opening and they’d wade happily together in the reality.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Baker,” he shrugs, backing up slowly towards the the door.

“The truth would be a good start,” she crosses her arms, plants her feet and waits.

Once more, he lets out a little chuckle, like she’s being unreasonable, like she’s just some dumb deluded girl with a crush.

“I don’t look at you in any way, rookie, we’re teammates, that’s it. I’m sor–”

She doesn’t let him finish.

“Unless you are about to apologize for lying to me right now, I don’t want to how sorry you are,” Ginny knows this is going to hurt like hell as soon as he walks out, so she’s holding on to the anger as hard and as tight as she can.

That has him stopping. For a few fraught seconds his eyes meets hers and she thinks he’s finally going to be honest with her.

Then Blip walks in.

“Hey, Mike, Al was looking…for…you…,” he trails off as he takes in the charged silence between his two teammates.

Blip’s looks comically between Mike and Ginny. His eyes flitting back and forth between them like a baseball during a game of catch.

“Am I interrupting something?” He asks, an almost-smile crossing his face. Ginny thinks he reads the room enough not to make a joke.

Ginny waits a few beats, eyes meeting Mike’s again as she raises her eyebrows in a silent question, asking without words whether or not Blip _is_ interrupting something. When Mike stays quiet, evading her gaze, something inside her cracks.

“No. No, Blip, you aren’t interrupting anything,” she gives her friend a tight smile and a pat on the shoulder as she brushes past him out the door.

She’s the one that gets to walk away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Comment if you'd like, it is always appreciated.


End file.
